


Where the Wind Takes Us

by MarzgaPerez



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bathtub Sex, Breaking up is hard to do, Drama, Escape, Evil Plans, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Bonding, Fatherhood, Fireside Chats, First Kiss, Girl Saves Boy, Goodbye Sex, Hair Braiding, Haircuts, Homecoming, Love Letters, Obsession, On the Run, Oral Sex, Past and Present Collide, Protective Siblings, Psychological Trauma, Ramsay is his own warning, Redemption, Reminiscing, Returning Home, Revenge, Sansa Gives Birth, Sapphire Wedding, Sappy, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build, Surprises, Theon & Sansa Wed, Theon Didn't Lose Everything, Torture, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 43
Words: 50,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post S05E10. Canon divergence after the first few paragraphs. Sansa and Theon survive the jump from the wall of Winterfell. Brienne helps them escape, and she has a plan for ensuring their safety. Sansa hopes this is the case because she will have someone else in her life to protect from the clutches of Ramsay. They have a long journey ahead of them, but Sansa and Theon are finding strength in their budding relationship.</p><p>This story will take place over a span of several years and will focus on a mostly happily-ever-after for Thansa. I know, no one ever gets a happily-ever-after in GoT, but I love them as a couple. </p><p>P.S. There's some happiness in here for Jaime and Brienne too. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Free?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Theon connect with Brienne and Podrick and flee Winterfell. Sansa realizes that she is carrying something unexpected and confides in Theon.

Sansa was huddled against Theon, hidden beneath several layers of burlap and various sacks of root vegetables. The sound of the horses' hooves and the earthy smell from the produce felt familiar and comforting. Sansa was on the edge of sleep, exhausted after their escape from Winterfell. They were lucky that neither of them had broken any bones, but she knew that Theon was in a lot of pain, mostly from his weakened state before they jumped the wall. Sansa's body was aching, but her soul was at peace now that they had been able to put some distance between them and that monster of a human being.

She knew Brienne was overjoyed to have found her alive, a promise to Catelyn fulfilled. Brienne had already formed a plan, having thought about how she would care for Sansa had she signaled her from the tower. She was suspicious of Theon at first, and Sansa was reluctant to reveal his identity, fearing that Brienne knew of his betrayal and would be unwilling to bring him along. But Brienne realized that he had been an integral part of Sansa's escape, and that he too, had suffered at the hands of Ramsay, so she allowed him to accompany them. She gave them fresh clothes to change into as they were soaked to the bone after the fall into the snow and miles of trudging through it.

“Keep them covered, Pod.” That was the last thing Sansa remembered hearing before she fell into a deep sleep.  

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Several weeks passed before Sansa realized why she wasn’t feeling well. At first she thought it was from lack of sleep, or the constant jostling of the wagon as it trailed behind the weary horses, or more than likely, her stomach was tired of the excessive amounts of roots and berries they had eaten along the way. So there she was in the woods, throwing up the little bit of food and water she'd had that morning. She longed for her mother in that moment, or even her sister Arya to tell her to be strong. 

Sansa had prayed to the gods that she and her companions could stay ahead of Ramsay. Brienne's plan was not an obvious one as they would cross many lands of only a few allies. The hardest part was getting out of the North safely. Theon tried to convince Brienne that they could seek refuge in the Iron Islands. He desperately wanted to see his sister and ask for her forgiveness, having nearly gotten her killed during her attempt to rescue him. But Brienne didn’t feel like Sansa would be safe amongst the ironborn. She knew the only place where she could truly protect Sansa would be on the Sapphire Isle.

Sansa's thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps and Theon's voice. “Sansa, are you alright? We were starting to worry.” Theon was relieved that Sansa had not wandered too far from their camp as she had been gone for more than the few minutes she’d promised.

Sansa opened her eyes and stared up at Theon. She was on the ground, resting against a large tree. As Theon kneeled down beside her, he could tell she had been crying. He wiped a tear from her cheek and placed his gloved hands on hers. It was only a few months ago that she would have cringed at the mere thought of his hand upon hers. He was thankful that they could be friends again, and he was dedicated to protecting her from the memories of the abuse she had endured at the hands of Ramsay. Yes, he wanted to see his sister Yara again, but if it wasn’t in the cards for a while, he could live with that. He owed it to Robb to stay with Sansa for as long as she needed him.  

She started to speak but hesitated.

“What is it?" He pulled her head against his shoulder and stroked her hair tenderly.

“Theon. There’s nothing worse I can imagine. I wanted to be free from Ramsay, but now I can’t be.”

“What do you mean? He won’t find us. He probably figures we’re as good as dead.”

“You know him, Theon. He won’t give up. I know he’ll have no way of knowing, but what if he suspects or if somehow, word gets back to him?”

“About where we’re going?”

“No, Theon." Sansa took a deep breath. "I’m with child. His child.” And having said it aloud, Sansa felt all the more paralyzed with fear, and she began to cry uncontrollably. Theon was stunned for a minute, and then he felt a tremendous wave of guilt wash over him. He should have warned her somehow, before the marriage, before Ramsay had damaged her.

"Are you sure? How do you know?"

Between sobs, Sansa managed to explain that she remembered her mother speak of a daunting sickness when she was first pregnant with Rickon. And she didn't share this with Theon, but Cersei had told her that once she was pregnant, she would no longer have her blood, and she hadn't bled since a few weeks before her wedding.

Theon held her tighter and whispered to her that they would find a way to make everything work out and that Ramsay would never find them. “Sansa, it’s not _his_ child, it’s yours. And you’ll have the baby and raise him to be as honorable as your father and brothers. He’ll be the one good thing to come out of this.”  

Sansa’s sobs quieted. Her mind was racing with all of the possibilities in front of her – after all, she was carrying the future heir to Winterfell. But at the same time, she feared bringing a child into the world and not being able to protect him from the evils she had faced, or the evils that would surely carry through to the child by way of his parentage.

“Theon. I don’t know what to do right now. I just know that I can’t look back." Sansa started to rise, and Theon stood up quickly to help her. "Please don’t tell Brienne and Podrick. I don’t want them to worry.”


	2. And So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like a protective older sister, Brienne asks Theon what his intentions are with Sansa.

The fire was dying down. Theon threw a few more sticks on it. Might as well keep warm, he thought. They had made it far enough south to where the weather wasn’t as brutal, but Theon wondered if he would ever shake the feeling of bitter cold from his insides.

The worst leg of their journey for Theon had been passing through the swamps around Moat Cailin and remembering how he'd persuaded the deteriorating ironborn soldiers to surrender to Ramsay. At first, he had feared for his own life, and then he had to watch in horror as Ramsay’s men flayed those who had put their trust in him.

Theon decided a long time ago that his life wasn’t worth anything, and that he was meant to suffer for his past wrong doings at the feet of his cruel master. But he had a new sense of purpose now, and he felt freer than he had in years. He was no longer locked in a kennel, subjected to the whims of a mad man, and he was no longer tied to the hope of gaining his father’s respect. He did intend to ensure Sansa’s safe passage to Tarth, and when he got his strength back, he would return to the North for two things – to see his sister and to exact his revenge on the Boltons.

For the time being, Theon would stay focused on the road ahead and the possibilities for Sansa and now her child. He knew she wouldn’t want to stay in Tarth for too long, but he hoped she would stay hidden there until her enemies were defeated. He glanced over at Sansa, who was finally sleeping peacefully, and his eyes lingered on her. Perhaps for too long a time.

“What are your intentions with her?” Brienne sat up and stretched her arms in front of her, all the while glaring at Theon.

“Lower your voice. You’ll wake them up.”

“Not likely. Pod sleeps like a corpse, and Sansa’s been especially tired lately.”

“Why are you awake?”

“Habit. I can’t trust anyone to keep watch as well as I do. Clearly, you were distracted.”

Theon scoffed at her accusatory tone. “I’m just glad to see that she’s resting.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. There’s something strange going on between the two of you.” Brienne had noticed Theon and Sansa stealing away together more often to look for food or to collect wood or whatever excuse they could come up with.

They had all been solemn on the Kingsroad leg of the journey and rightfully so – it had been a fairly treacherous path. There were more than a few occasions that Brienne and company had to slay a bandit or two. Pod was becoming more confident in his abilities with a sword, and Theon was working on gaining back his archery skills. He would sometimes disappear in the early morning to hunt for the group’s breakfast. He was successful every now and again and would beam with pride when he was able to bring something back. 

“I hope that you are behaving honorably with Sansa.”

Theon scoffed. "Of course I am. I’ve known her since she was a girl. I have the same goal as you. I just want to protect her.”

“Yes...but it seems as though you're in love with her."

Theon looked over at Sansa again, just to make sure she was still asleep. He responded sharply but in a whisper. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Have _you_ ever been in love?”

Brienne looked away, seemingly embarrassed by the question. She didn’t feel like verbally sparring with the great son of Lord Balon Greyjoy, but then again, she had provoked him. Even with that hardened scowl on his face, Theon still wasn’t anything like the young man she had heard about over the years – the arrogant and privileged ward of Ned Stark and then the disloyal, foolish enemy of the Starks who was betrayed by his own men at Winterfell. Her opinion of Theon was even lower until Sansa had confided in her that Theon didn't kill her younger brothers after all. 

“Tell me something.” Brienne paused and poked at the fire. “Does it count if they don’t love you back?”

Upon hearing her reply, Theon’s expression softened, and he answered her in a warmer tone. “Yes...it counts.”

“Then twice. The answer is twice. I suppose that doesn’t make me an expert, but I can see that you have feelings for her.”

“Well, Brienne of Tarth, you are entitled to your opinion.”

"Fine, Greyjoy. Just know that I'll be keeping an eye on you.” Brienne spoke louder than she had intended, and then, as if bothered by the sudden noise, Sansa rolled over onto her side and let out a low sigh.

Theon waited a moment before responding. "Do what you think is right. You are a person of honor."

He sounded sincere, but Brienne was still not sure how to take him. Theon turned his back to the fire and mumbled to her. "Now, if you don't mind, I’d like to sleep, seeing as how you’re wide awake."


	3. Broken Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa offers to cut Theon's hair, and she convinces him to open up about Ramsay's torture.

Theon had agreed to let Sansa cut his hair. It was wildly unkempt and brittle from his time at Winterfell. He couldn’t have cared less about his appearance, but Sansa told him he would feel better if he returned to some semblance of normalcy.

“I’d like to wash it first, Theon.”

“No, don’t bother with that. Just cut it. This shouldn’t take much time.”

They were standing close to a stream, and it was a warm day, even under the shadows of the trees.

“Don’t argue. I’ve found a place where we can sit. And I have some soap. Please, Theon.”

He then realized that she wanted to show him an extra bit of kindness. Sansa knew he had been treated like an animal, or worse, for quite some time. So, he followed behind her as she kneeled by the stream. She draped a cloth over a medium-sized stone near the shallow bank, and gestured for him to lay down on his back.

“Rest your neck on the rock.”

He obliged, and although it was a bit uncomfortable, he forgot about the discomfort as Sansa scooped cool water from the stream and poured it over his head. Some of the water trickled down his face.

“Sorry, Theon.”

He wiped the water away with his gloved hand and smiled up at her. “It's fine.”

Theon closed his eyes as Sansa proceeded to massage the soap into his hair and scalp. He found the touch of her hands soothing, therapeutic, and he was so relaxed, he could have fallen asleep. Sansa watched the peacefulness in his expression as she moved her hands through his hair and then gently rubbed his temples. For just a moment, she wondered what would happen if she leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. It was such a silly thought, but she’d remembered Theon as a young man, so confident and full of himself. Sansa wished him just an ounce of that confidence right now.    

After she’d rinsed his hair with more water from the stream, she tapped his shoulder so that he would know to open his eyes. He slowly sat up and moved towards Sansa as she lifted the cloth from the rock and dried his hair until it was just damp instead of soaking wet. She took a deep breath. “Now, for the hard part.”

“Have you ever cut a man’s hair before?”

“No, but I saw my mother do it a thousand times. I think she may have even cut your hair once or twice…when you first came to Winterfell. You wouldn’t go near the barber. Do you remember?” Sansa started to comb through Theon’s hair and then opened the knife that Brienne had sharpened for her.

“Yes, I remember. Your mother was none too pleased about having another young boy in the house. She said we were all too rough on you. And then came Arya. She didn’t mind as much.”

“Ha! No, she didn’t. I think about her quite often. I hope that she’s still alive out there…and my brothers too.” There was a long silence, and Theon’s shoulders sank slightly as he thought about his part in endangering the lives of Bran and Rickon. What if he had done as his father had told him? Or better yet, what if he had sided with Robb? But he’d run all of those scenarios over in his head many, many times, and none of it mattered now. He felt like Sansa had forgiven him, or at least, was willing to put that behind them for now.

Sansa began to work the blade against Theon’s hair, and she rinsed the knife in the stream as she made progress. 

“Turn around. Let me take a look.” Theon moved so that he was mostly facing Sansa, but he kept his head lowered to the ground. “Theon. Lift up your chin, please.” He obeyed her request, and she lightly ran her fingers through the front of his hair, which was much shorter and neater. “Not bad.”

He smiled at her with gratitude. “Thank you, Sansa.”  

“I’m glad you agreed to it.” Sansa reached for Theon’s hand. “Will you let me cut your nails?”   

Theon pulled his hand away quickly. He had revealed to Sansa and the others that Ramsay had cut off a few of his fingers, but he always kept his hands covered. He was working to rehabilitate them as much as possible and to relearn how to hold a bow and arrow with the deformity. Still, his hands were a constant reminder that he could never return to his former self. Especially since Ramsay had removed more than just his fingers.

“I’m sorry for asking. It’s just…I want to make sure that you’re taking proper care of your hands. You shouldn’t be ashamed, Theon.”

“I’m not ashamed. But I don’t want to frighten you. There are things I haven’t told you, things I’ll never speak of again.”

“But you’ll have to take your gloves off eventually. I want you to feel the baby kicking.”

Theon's expression brightened. “What? You can feel it?”

“Yes, for a week or so now. Just flutters. But that means he’s doing well, I guess.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, just tired. And I’m scared, of course. I don’t want to have the baby along the road, but I’ll make do. You were right about this baby being a blessing…as long as I can keep him safe.” Sansa patted her belly. “I haven’t gained much weight, have I? Do you think Brienne suspects anything?”

“No, you're as thin as ever. And yes, she suspects something. I don’t know if she’s figured it out, but you’ll have to tell her soon, you know.”

Sansa nodded in agreement and started to gather the items that she’d used for Theon’s haircut. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him removing his gloves, but she shifted her focus to own her hands until she sensed that Theon was ready for her to look up.    

Instead of staring at his hands from where she was seated, Sansa took them and held them, feeling with her own fingers where his were missing.

She locked eyes with Theon, and she noticed the sorrow pass through his eyes, as she felt the roughness of his hands and the gnarled joints where his fingers once were. She counted three fingers on one hand and two on the other, plus his thumbs. Sansa closed her eyes and drew his hands towards her lips, gently kissing each one. She noticed that Theon was trembling.

“Oh, Theon.” Sansa wrapped her arms around him. He embraced her as well, crying softly into her hair.  

“I promise we’ll get through this. We’ll find a way to put the pieces back together.”


	4. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay gets a lecture from dear old dad, and Sansa falls ill near Casterly Rock.

Roose Bolton pounded on the table with great fury. “You’re losing focus on what's important. I don’t know who you are more upset about losing – your wife or that creature!”

Sensing that the conversation was not going to end well, Walda quickly stood up and began gathering the breakfast dishes.

“Put those down, Walda. We have servants who will take care of that. I want you to hear what I’m about to say to my idiot son. And I pray that our child will have more sense.” Roose scowled across the table at Ramsay who was embarrassed by his father’s outburst but not particularly moved one way or the other.

“You’ve got half our guards on their trail – although you don’t have a fucking clue as to where they went. Did they go north to find her bastard brother? I don’t see how they would have survived in this weather, but it’s a theory worth exploring, I suppose. Or did they go to the Iron Islands in hopes that Balon Greyjoy would take back his aberration of a son? Or maybe they’re living somewhere here at Winterfell? Maybe right under your nose? I don’t know, and right now, I don’t fucking care!”

“Father…if I could just –”

“No, you’ll shut your mouth until I’ve had my say. I know very well what you did to Greyjoy, and I’ve heard how you treated the Stark girl. Him, I don’t care about, but your marriage to Sansa Stark was to gain us favor amongst the Northerners who have remained loyal to her father. You could have just left her alone as far as I’m concerned, but what was the point of torturing her to the point that she would want to leave Winterfell? Sometimes your stupidity amazes me.” Roose paused to take a swig from his mug. Walda was resting her arms on her protruding belly and wringing her hands nervously under the table.

“Now, I have to give credit where credit is due. Your strategies to take down Stannis Baratheon’s army – brilliant. Your obsession with finding Reek and Sansa – pathetic. You followed as many leads as possible, and you’ve got to accept that you’re not going to find them anytime soon. You’re wasting valuable time and resources. We need to continue finding ways to stabilize the region so that we can rule without incident. I’m going to search for another suitable bride for you…eventually. But not until you’ve shown some better judgement.”

Ramsay was now boiling on the inside, but he somehow managed not to raise his voice to his father. He’d find a more private way to exert his anger later. He responded to his father through gritted teeth. “If it pleases you, I will call off the hunt, and just have one of my best men continue searching…if for no other reason than to resolve where they may have gone, or better yet, if they’re dead. Thank you for the resources you’ve extended me thus far. I will continue to work on my mannerisms and channeling my creativity into other activities.”

“Yes, well, I suggest you do that. And as far as Petyr Baelish is concerned, the Stark girl jumped from the wall due to a deep sorrow that you were unable to help her overcome, despite many attempts. Offer to let him come to the tomb and pay his respects to her remains. Make sure you put something down there – I don’t care if it’s man or beast. Walda will help you if need be. Understood?”

“Yes, Father.” Ramsay bowed his head and then excused himself from the table. He went quickly to his chambers to punch the wall and kick over everything in his sight. He would find someone to take his frustrations out on and then use that someone to serve as Sansa’s remains. And of course, he would never stop trying to find Sansa and Reek. He could never let a bitch or a freak get the better of him.       

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Theon was pacing back and forth in the area behind the tiny cottage. Podrick was on the ground, resting against the back wall of the house, feeling nervous about being so close to home and hoping to remain unrecognized. They had taken a big risk venturing into town, but Pod assured Brienne that his uncle would help them and keep quiet about their visit. His uncle was a classically trained Maester, although he had retired years ago. Most of the townspeople came to him with minor concerns, but others questioned his mental faculties as he had badly misdiagnosed a case of greyscale just before his retirement. He was lucky that the disease had been quickly identified and contained and that he himself had not been infected.

Brienne emerged from the back door and addressed Theon in a tone of disdain. “She wants to see you, Greyjoy.” She practically spit when she said his name. Brienne was furious with Theon for not telling her about Sansa’s pregnancy. She would have done a number of things differently and taken extra caution with how they were traveling.  

“Is she alright?”

“She has a fever from a minor illness that she picked up along the way – most likely brought on by poor travel conditions.”

“And the baby?”

“Everything seems fine, according to the Maester. Go and see her. I’ll talk to Pod about alternate travel arrangements. The Maester recommends that she rest for a few days. I don’t think we have that kind of time, and we certainly can’t stay here.”

Theon nodded in agreement and skulked past Brienne to enter the darkened room, where the Maester had just left Sansa to prepare some additional remedies. She was lying on a table with a damp cloth draped across her forehead. Theon went to her side immediately and pulled off one of his gloves so that he could test the warmness of her cheek. “It’s breaking, isn’t it?”

Sansa looked up at him gratefully. “Yes, I think so. The Maester gave me some tea. He said that I need to eat and drink more and not exert myself so much. If only it were that easy.” Sansa tried to smile, but her eyes told a different story.

Theon patted her hand. “Brienne is angry…but with me…not you. I thought I was keeping you safe by watching over you myself, but we should have told her sooner.”

“No, that would have slowed us down. And I didn’t expect to become ill. I think she understands. She’s just unsure of what to do now. I’ve suggested that we continue as planned, but she’s not convinced. Will you tell her that I’m fine, Theon?” Sansa started to rise up, but Theon gently persuaded her to lie back down. He removed the cloth from her forehead, dipped it in the bucket of cool water nearby, and placed it back on her forehead.

“Just rest for now. We’ll figure something out. I’m glad it’s not something serious, but we’ve got to be more careful. I’ll speak to Brienne. Don’t worry.” As Theon started to walk away, Sansa reached out and squeezed his hand. He turned to her and drew her warm hand to his lips, lightly kissing the back of her hand. He placed it by her side as she began to fall asleep.


	5. A Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the next leg of their journey, Brienne takes the group "off-road" through the Reach.

Theon tapped Brienne on the back of her shoulder and held out a mug full of ale. “Here, take it. The Maester gave it to me.” She didn’t turn around to acknowledge him, but she did hold her hand up to reach for the mug. She grabbed it and drank it in one gulp as Theon sat down across from her. 

“You’re a damn fool, Greyjoy. But we’re in this together, I suppose.”

“Where's Pod?”

“He went to check on his mother. The Maester said that she isn’t well. He’s afraid he might not get to see her again.”

“And you let him go?”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Brienne paused and let out a loud belch. “I hope.” She then picked up a stick and started to draw a map in the dirt. She motioned for Theon to move closer.  

“You see the dilemma? The fastest way to get to the coast will be to cross the Reach, but there’s no direct road. We could end up lost or jailed for trespassing. Plus, we’d have to take extra supplies with us since we don’t know exactly what’s out there.”

“Brienne. It's not too late to sail for Pyke."

“Out of the question, Greyjoy.”

“Why not? You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust your people. And I’m no fan of your father’s.”

“Neither am I, but Sansa would be safe. I’d see to it.”

Brienne huffed and turned back to her drawing in the dirt. She circled the spot that she had designated as Tarth and thought about how much she wanted to go home. Maybe she was being selfish, wanting to see her father and to breathe in the fresh air of the Isle. In all of her travels, she’d never seen water so blue.

Then she thought about Jaime Lannister and a small part of her wondered if he was nearby, visiting Casterly Rock. Or maybe he was back at King’s Landing, helping his sister keep up the appearance of a well-controlled kingdom. She wondered whether their paths would cross again. 

“Theon, are you well enough now to ride one of the horses?”     

“I think so.”

“Good. We’ll need as much space in the wagon as possible. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but we’re still going to Tarth. I won’t look down on you if you’d rather go your own way to Pyke. And I’m sure Sansa will understand.”

“No, I won’t leave her.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. Because I’m going to ask you to do something for her.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“You’re going to have to ask her to marry you.”

“Marry me?”

“Yes. That could be your baby she’s carrying.”

“Well…no.” Theon could feel his face turning a slight shade of red.  

“But in theory.”

“Well…maybe in a hypothetical sense.”

“Then you must ask for her hand, and be a father to her child. It’s the proper thing to do.”

“But she’s already married."

“She was forced into both of those marriages, and they can be annulled. You’ll be a better match for her.”

Theon was surprised to hear Brienne speak of him in a kind way, but he still disagreed. “I’m no better than that monster or that imp. I would just bring shame to her. After everything that’s happened...” Theon kicked the dirt with his boot and looked away.  

“I guess you’re right, Greyjoy. Besides, it sounds like you’ll have to convince yourself if you ever want to convince her.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Theon, wake up.” Sansa shook his arm gently.

Theon bolted upright and looked around him quickly, expecting the worst – thieves or Ramsay. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he felt around on the ground for his sword.

“No, it’s alright. I just wanted you to see something. Come with me.” Sansa seemed strangely giddy as she pulled at his arm. Theon followed along beside her as she led them through a field of tall grass and then up a steep hill. They were both out of breath by the time they got to the top.

“Look, Theon. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Theon had pulled his arm up to shield his face from the bright light. The hill overlooked a vast field of wild flowers, and the rising sun kissed the tops of the blossoms with its rays.

“Margery was right. This is an amazing place.”

“Margery?”

“Margery Tyrell of Highgarden. She and I were together in King’s Landing for a time. We plotted that I would marry her brother Ser Loras, and we’d become sisters. She was one of the only people who was genuinely kind to me. Well, Tyrion was kind too, I suppose, in his own way.”

“Ah, yes. Your first husband.” Theon muttered.   

“Don’t say it like that. The Lannisters were holding me hostage.”

“And Ser Loras? Were you in love with him?” Theon asked in a bitter tone.

“I don’t know. Why are you being so foul? I thought I could cheer you up by bringing you here. You've been so down lately.” Sansa started to walk away. “Let’s just go back.”

“Wait, Sansa.”

Something in Theon's voice made Sansa turn around and face him. She noticed that he was somehow different. Maybe it was the way he was standing with his shoulders straight back instead of hunched over. And although he had just seemed sulky and downtrodden, he now appeared self-assured and a bit more like the Theon she remembered from their youth. “What is it?"

“Sansa, I’m sorry. I’ve been worried about getting to the coast. And making sure that you’re safe. You see, I failed so miserably to help you before.” Theon stepped closer to Sansa and put his hand on her shoulder.

She shook her head as if to disagree. Sansa knew he was still carrying a lot of guilt with him.

He continued. “Seeing you at Winterfell, I started to remember that I didn’t belong to Ramsay and that someone had once cared about me - your family. I thought his hold over me was stronger than anything else, but it wasn’t. You saved me from that place, and you didn’t have to.” Theon moved his hand to caress the back of her neck, and Sansa stood motionless, waiting for what he was about to say next.

“Sansa, if you’ll have me, I want to be a husband to you and a father to your child. I won’t hurt you, or ask anything of you. Just let me take care of you. I don’t have much to give you, other than my title and the possibility that one day your child will inherit what my father leaves me. It’s everything I have, and it's yours.”

For some reason, Sansa had been expecting this offer from Theon, or maybe even hoping for it. She had been someone’s trophy and then someone’s consolation prize and then someone’s caged animal. Sansa was tired of being passed around like a toy or worse and then tossed aside. She only had a flicker of a doubt that Theon might be using his affection for her to fulfill a need for redemption after all of his betrayals and lies.   

He watched her expression for any slight indication of what she might be thinking. He knew there was one last thing he had to tell her. “But Sansa, there’s something else…something Ramsay took from me...”

Sansa looked into Theon’s eyes, which were now full of shame, but she stopped him. “Theon, you don’t have to say anything about that. I already know. It doesn’t change anything. I still care about you. I just need time to think.”

Ramsay had told Sansa most everything he had done to Theon. She wasn't sure if he shared the excruciating details in a boastful way or to frighten her or to endear her to him since he knew how much she initially detested Theon.

But there they stood, having survived captivity and tied to one another through a twist of fate. They were unsure of what to do or what to say next, so they held each other, both still feeling far from peace but no longer alone.

Brienne eventually wandered over to find them and ushered them back to camp. They had a lot of ground to cover that day.


	6. New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Brienne have a heart-to-heart on the ship bound for Tarth. Brienne looks forward to welcoming Sansa into her home. Not long after arriving in Tarth, Sansa gives birth.

The cabin was cramped, and the bed was lumpy, but Sansa was grateful to be out of the elements and closer to the safe haven that Brienne had promised them. She moved her hands to the top of her belly and gently patted in the direction of the baby’s movements.

She heard a knock. "Come in." Sansa expected to see Theon on the other side of the door. The night before, he came by to check on her, and she had asked him to stay with her until she fell asleep. But this time it was Brienne.

"Good evening, m'lady. May I speak with you for a moment?"

“Of course.” Sansa gestured for her to have a seat. Brienne hesitated for a moment as she thought it improper to place herself at the same level as a lady but quickly decided that she and Sansa had done away with most formalities a long time ago. She sat down at the foot of the bed.

"Are you comfortable? We should be in Tarth in just a few days."

"Yes, everyone has been so kind. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done." Sansa reached out her hand towards Brienne in a gesture of gratitude.

Brienne patted her hand gently. “I’m only doing my duty and keeping the promise I made to your mother.” She paused and looked down. "I wish I could have done the same for your sister.”

“Arya never was one to accept help. You did what you could. Just like when you tried to help me when I was with Petyr.”

"Littlefinger. I've never trusted him. He’s one to put his needs before anyone else’s. I hope you realize that now.”

"I know that he loved my mother.”

“That wasn’t love, Sansa. It was an obsession. He couldn’t love her and leave you like he did with those people.”

“But he saved me from the Lannisters and my aunt Lysa. Perhaps he could still help us find my sister and my brothers...” Sansa began to weep quietly, thinking about how fortunate she was to be safe while her siblings were still out there, probably fighting for their lives.

Brienne spoke in a soothing tone. “Now you’re the one who’s wrestling with guilt. You’ll have someone else to take care of soon, so your child must be your first priority. Don’t lose faith. Your sister and your brothers will find a way to survive, and gods willing, you’ll be together again.”

Sansa knew that Brienne was right about taking care of her child. She still felt like a child herself at times, but she had let go of her youthful idealizations the day she witnessed her father’s execution.

“Sansa, I want you to know that I’m honored to have you as a guest in my home. My father is a wonderful man. And we’ll make sure that you have whatever you need. The people of Tarth are honorable and loyal, but your true identify will remain within the walls of Evenfall.” Brienne stood up and bowed towards Sansa. “Now, you must rest as much as you can. It won’t be long before you become a mother. I don’t have much experience with babies, but I hear they can be quite challenging. Good night, Lady Sansa.”

“Good night, Brienne. And thank you." After Brienne closed the door behind her, Sansa blew out the candle by her bed. She listened to the faint sound of the waves lapping against the sides of the ship and wondered if Theon would join her soon.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Sansa was breathing rhythmically like the Maester had advised. The pain was coming and going, radiating through her back and pelvic area, becoming more intense as the hours passed. Brienne was overseeing the whole process, and she'd told Theon to go on a hunt. He seemed to need a distraction, and she later spotted him milling around the grounds like a nervous father-to-be.

"Lady Sansa, Maester Amos tells me that everything is progressing the way it’s supposed to. I’m going to check on my father. I won’t be long. Keila will stay with you.” Keila nodded politely and approached the bed. She was a quiet and nurturing woman from a nearby brothel, and she had delivered a number of babies over the years. Under other circumstances, Brienne would have protested having her in Evenfall, but she came highly recommended by the Maester and was known for being discreet.

Sansa grimaced as a new wave of pain pulsated through her abdomen.

“M’lady, please drink more water. And let us walk 'round the hall again. Shall I fetch your husband?”

Brienne had told Lord Selwyn and everyone else in the castle that Theon was the father of the unborn child and that he and Sansa would be wed once she was granted annulments from the Faith. "I think I'm fine for now. Besides, I don't think it's customary to have the father present, is it?"

"You'd be surprised what a man will do, especially if he thinks his wife is in pain. You're handling yourself quite well, m'lady. You've only a bit longer to go, and then you'll have to push. You might want him here then."

And an hour or so later as the contractions became more frequent and increasingly painful, Sansa asked for Theon to be summoned. She was beginning to feel less nervous about her labor and more concerned about everything that would happen after the baby was born. How would she feed the baby and take care of it? She had helped her mother with Rickon, but her mother was so experienced by the time he came along and actually knew what she was doing.

"Just think about when Maester Luwin and your father delivered that foal. Everything was fine afterwards."

"I'm not a horse, Theon." Sansa leaned over and whispered to him. "And I can't even properly blame you for this, can I?"

Theon shook his head slightly and took Sansa's hand, telling her to hold onto him whenever she started to feel the pain again.

"No, I don't want to hurt you."

"I think I can handle it."

Sansa followed his advice and gripped his arm until each contraction subsided. He tried to distract her with stories from their youth at Winterfell. He talked about the time Robb had convinced him not to touch Sansa's hair because it was the color of fire and would burn him. Theon thought back to his time at Pyke as a boy and described to Sansa how his mother would sing him to sleep most nights.

"That's what I missed most about being away from my home. And my sister. She'd protect me from our older brothers when they got too rowdy. My father would say it was good for me, but Yara knew when it was too much." Sansa smiled knowingly, listening to his stories about his siblings, and then she was briefly saddened by the thought that her child would probably be an only child, and gods forbid that Ramsay ever found out about him.

Keila came back in the room. "Pardon me, but I need to check the lady to see if she's ready to push." Theon stepped towards the window and turned the other way while Keila felt between Sansa's legs for progress. "Yes, I think it's time to get that baby out of you. I'll call the Maester." Keila winked at Theon as she went to fetch the Maester and more water.

Just then, Sansa's body was overwhelmed with an extremely painful contraction, and she called out for Theon to come to her side. The Maester and Brienne hurried into the room with Keila not far behind, and they all began to encourage Sansa to push with each contraction. Sansa was holding onto Theon's arm as tightly as she could and grunting as she pushed. It took several attempts, and then the Maester told her to push once more with all of her strength. Screaming in pain, Sansa pushed as hard as she could until the baby's head was out, and then as directed, she pushed once more to expel the rest of the body. The Maester wrapped the baby in a cloth and presented him to his new parents.

"He's a healthy baby boy. A bit on the small side but strong." The baby wailed as Sansa cradled him and tried to quiet him with gentle kisses. He had a soft smattering of bright red hair, and she was amused by his tiny balled up fists. Theon kissed Sansa on the forehead before leaning over to kiss the baby as well. "He's perfect. And you're amazing." Sansa smiled weakly back at him and sunk into the pillow with a look of relief.

"Lady Sansa, you can feed him after we take care of the afterbirth. I'll need you to push again." Sansa nodded and pulled the baby close to her heart. Suddenly, she began to experience a strong contraction, and the Maester seemed slightly taken aback. He reached his hand into the birth canal. "M'lady, there's another baby. Keila, take the boy. Once more, Sansa, a big push the next time you feel the tightness."

Sansa was almost in shock. Twins? She had never considered that as a possibility, but there was no time to panic. She gathered what little energy she had left to push out the second baby. Again, she called for Theon, and he wrapped his arms around her as she dug her fingers into them and pushed. A second wailing filled the room, and the Maester quickly inspected the baby.

"And you have a girl. A beautiful girl." Sansa cried tears of joy, grateful to have safely brought her children into the world. She was exhausted but proud, excited and yet fearful about being the mother she wanted to be. She glanced over at Theon who had taken the little boy in his arms. He seemed mesmerized by the tiny baby, and she could see hope and wonder in his expression. He noticed her watching him, and he brought the boy over to her. She looked down at her baby girl and realized that they were a family now.

Sansa only thought of Ramsay for a brief second as she noticed that the little girl had narrow facial features like his. She shook away any feeling of dread as her daughter briefly opened her eyes, and Sansa felt like she was holding a tiny version of her sister Arya.

"What will you call them?" Brienne was equally relieved that everyone was healthy.

Sansa's eyes met Theon's.

"I always knew if we had a boy that he would be called 'Ned' after my father." Sansa handed her daughter over to Theon. "So I think it's only fair that Theon name our girl."

Theon was surprised but honored. He knew that in her own way, Sansa was letting him know that she wanted him to be a part of her life.

He thought for a moment. "Alannys after my mother. Or Lanny for short."


	7. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is quiet in Tarth until an unexpected visitor arrives.

This was Brienne’s favorite time of day to collect her thoughts. Most everyone was either sleeping, or taking care of errands away from the castle. Pod was at the market near the docks, keeping his ear to the ground for any interesting news. Of course, her father was often privy to messages delivered via raven, so Brienne had learned about a number of developments in Westeros from the past few months. She was deeply saddened by two pieces of information in particular – the murders of Myrcella Baratheon and Jon Snow.

Brienne was upset about Myrcella’s death mainly because she knew how much Myrcella meant to Jaime but also because of the strife it had caused between King’s Landing and Dorne. Given the location of Tarth and the brewing conflict between the two areas, her father had wanted to remain neutral. But Brienne found it difficult not to side with the Lannisters, even if she did detest the girl’s mother.

There had been word from King’s Landing that Cersei was imprisoned by the High Sparrow and made to complete a walk of atonement for her admission of adultery with her cousin. Brienne's father described some of the other accusations regarding Cersei and Jaime. Brienne had heard those rumors before, and Jaime had practically admitted to having an affair with Cersei. It certainly did explain why Cersei had been so cold to her and seemingly jealous of her friendship with Jaime. And she remembered what Jaime had told her on their journey to King's Landing. _We don't get to choose who we love._  

She hadn’t shared the news of Jon’s death with Sansa as the time hadn’t been quite right since the twins were born. Sansa was sleep-deprived and wanting to do everything for the babies herself – although she did accept help from Theon. Brienne sensed that the two of them were growing closer through the experience of becoming parents. Both were fiercely dedicated to the children and somehow found a system that they could manage between feedings and naps and baths with little assistance. Brienne was particularly fond of the baby girl Lanny who, even at six months, seemed like the more dominant personality. She demanded more attention and seemed to do everything before Ned. She also had a hearty laugh and could somehow calm her brother when he was otherwise inconsolable.

Brienne began to doze off when one of the servants knocked on the door and requested her presence downstairs.

“What is it? I asked not to be disturbed.”

“I’m terribly sorry, m’lady, but Podrick is here with some guardsmen from King’s Landing.”

“What do they want?”

“They didn’t say, m’lady, only that they had some business with you.”

“I see. Thank you. I will be there in a moment.” Brienne said this in as calm a manner as possible, but she was worried about why anyone from the capital would present themselves without the courtesy of an advance notice. Surely they had not been sent by Cersei to extradite Sansa. She thought about speaking with her father before going downstairs but then decided against it. He needed his rest.

As Brienne made her way to the front of the castle, she spotted Pod standing anxiously in a corner close to the main door.

“Pod,” she said in a low voice. “Make sure our guests are taken care of.” He hesitated, wondering if he should stay by Brienne’s side, but then he noticed the urgency in her expression and walked quickly toward the stairs to notify Sansa of the guards.

Brienne stepped through the doorway and faced two rows of Lannister guards, about five on each side, she estimated. Suddenly, the rows separated as a familiar figure made his way towards Brienne. Although he had his head bowed and was wearing a helmet that masked most of his face, Brienne knew right away that it was Jaime. She was somewhat taken aback, but then she was relieved and curious about his visit. Had he missed her, or was he here on some kind of official business? More importantly, how did he know that she was in Tarth? She noticed his bronze hand partially hidden by his cloak as he bowed towards her and addressed her formally.  

“Lady Brienne of Tarth. I’ve come to have a word with you on behalf of the Crown. I understand that your father is ill, so I won’t take much of your time.”

“Good Ser. I can spare a few minutes of my time for the Crown. I’ll have some refreshments prepared for your men so that they might partake in the hospitality of Tarth. Just give me a moment to notify my servants. Please come inside and rest in the main hall.” Brienne bowed in return as Jaime removed his helmet. She noticed his green eyes, dancing with mischief, just as she remembered them.   

“M’lady, allow me to accompany you.” Jaime nodded for the guards to go with the servants into the main hall as he followed Brienne into the kitchen area. The cook was working on lunch for the small household, but Brienne told her to go and retrieve supplies for a dozen more guests. As the cook scurried out of the kitchen, Brienne turned to Jaime to ask him a question. Before she could get a word out, he pulled her close and held her awkwardly until she gave into the embrace and relaxed her body into his arms.

“You made it. You’re home.” He sounded happy for her, happy that she was safe.


	8. There's a First Time for Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jaime discuss current events, and Theon confronts Jaime.

They were seated in the gardens, side by side, mostly silent but enjoying the comfort of the other’s presence. Brienne had sent word to Sansa not to be alarmed by the guards but to stay out of sight. Theon had disappeared on a hunting expedition, so Podrick went to look for him and alert him of their visitors.

Brienne was grateful to have this time with Jaime, knowing that it could be many months or even years before they would see each other again.

“Jaime, I’m so sorry for your loss. Myrcella. I know that she meant the world to you.”

Jaime stiffened at the mention of his daughter’s name. “Thank you. I would have given my life for hers.”

He looked down at the ground and then straightened his shoulders and spoke in a more formal tone. “I’m on my way to Dorne now. The only way we’ve managed to avoid a war is because Doran Martell quickly tried and sentenced Ellaria to death. We’re still holding Trystane until it’s done. I’m on my way to bear witness.”

“It’s a very delicate situation.”

“Yes. Cersei would have preferred more bloodshed, but we really can’t afford a war right now. Things are tense in the North. The wildlings…and there’s been more talk of the White Walkers.”

“White Walkers? Aren’t there enough actual problems without stirring up ghost stories? My father received word that the wildlings killed Jon Snow. Surely the Night’s Watch no longer has the forces to keep them at bay.”

“Jon Snow. Funny you should mention him – Ned Stark’s bastard. I was told that Sansa Stark returned to Winterfell to marry the Bolton bastard, but she killed herself soon after the ceremony. Tragic, isn’t it? Unless Arya turns up, there’s no Stark blood left in the world.” Jaime turned to Brienne with a sly grin, and she realized immediately that he knew Sansa was alive.

“How did you find out?”

“I can’t reveal my sources.”

“It was Pod, wasn’t it? He got word to you when we were near Casterly Rock.”

“Not intentionally. But I stay in touch with the Payne family.”

Brienne pounded her fist into her thigh. “Damn him. I knew that Pod would slip up.”

“Don’t worry, Brienne. It won’t go any further than me. She’s here, isn’t she? That’s why you came back to Tarth?”

Brienne hesitated. She hoped that Jaime was still as loyal as the day he’d given her Oathkeeper and that Cersei had not been able to influence him. But she knew deep down that he wouldn’t have put on this façade if he had intended Sansa any harm. “Yes, she is. I’ve kept her safe this long, and I don’t intend to stop.”

Jaime picked up Brienne’s hand and held it. “And here I was hoping that you’d come with me. At least to Dorne.” He smiled warmly, and she nudged him with her shoulder, smiling back and entertaining the offer for a brief moment.

“You’d feel safer with me by your side, Jaime Lannister. Is that it? Haven’t perfected your technique with your left hand yet?”

Jaime looked down at his sword. “You still have Oathkeeper?”

"Of course."

"Well, then I suppose it will be a fair fight."

And with that, Brienne leapt from where they were seated and drew her prized sword. Jaime was just as quick, and they began to spar, mostly in a lighthearted manner. Brienne noticed the vast improvement in Jaime’s form, and as she let her mind wander for just a second, Jaime advanced on her. She retreated until her back was against a tree, and he swiftly knocked the sword from her hands and moved towards her. She could feel his breath on her face, and he brought his lips close to hers.

Suddenly, Jaime felt the point of a blade in his neck. “Drop your sword.” Theon was now standing behind him. He had been nearing the castle and witnessed what he thought was Brienne being attacked. Jaime was tempted to swing his sword at the unknown man behind him, but he looked at Brienne who signaled with her eyes that he should obey. He dropped his sword and held his hands in the air.

Brienne spoke up. “Theon, it’s alright – ”

“You do know who this is?”

“Yes, I do. He’s the one who empowered me to find Sansa. He’s not here to harm her. Put your sword down.” After a tense couple of seconds, Theon reluctantly obliged and placed his sword back in its sheath. Jaime turned to face him.

“Theon? Theon Greyjoy? I guess it’s true what they say about you ironborn – what is dead may never die. I was certain you’d been killed at Winterfell by the Boltons. How did you manage your way into this merry fold? And after murdering the Stark boys.” Jaime shook his head and went to pick up his sword.

“I’d been a prisoner of Ramsay Bolton. Same as Sansa. And I don’t see why you’d be interested in protecting her. You and your family are allies with Petyr Baelish and Lord Bolton, the very people who put her in harm’s way.”

“That’s all politics. I don’t involve myself with that.”

“Not to mention your sister. Sansa’s told me how poorly she was treated by the Queen and your loathsome nephew.”

“Careful, Greyjoy. He’s a dead king but a king no less. I won’t stand here defending myself against a man like you, who has no honor and no loyalty. Brienne, I’ll be gathering my men and leaving soon. Please give my regards to your father.”

“Wait, Jaime.” Brienne turned to Theon. “Thank you for intervening on my behalf, but Jaime is a friend. He made a promise to Catelyn Stark. You needn’t worry. Please go inside while I finish speaking with him. You should check on Sansa.”    

“Fine.” Theon scowled at Jaime and spoke to him in a threatening tone. “You and your kinfolk stay away from Sansa. She’s suffered enough. Let her be.”

Jaime decided to let Theon have the last word, but once Theon was out of sight, he chuckled to himself. “Intense fellow, isn’t he? And not too steady with a sword.”

“He’s been through a lot. Of course, he brought it on himself mostly, but…he didn’t kill the Stark boys. They escaped from Winterfell before the Boltons captured it.”

“So it’s only the older Stark siblings that we’ve lost. And how long will you keep Sansa here?”

“I’m not sure. Until she asks to leave, or an enemy gets wind of her whereabouts.”

“The Boltons?”

“Or Littlefinger. That slime. You should be careful. They seem to be building an alliance in the North, and they tried to use Sansa as a pawn.”

“I’m aware, but thank you just the same. Cersei’s not well. Neither is Tommen, but maybe my trip to Dorne will help. I’m sorry to leave you without a more proper goodbye.”

Brienne was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I wanted to do this.” He figured that she might push him away, so he only grazed her lips with his and waited for her reaction. She closed her eyes briefly and sighed and then smiled, opening her eyes and looking back into his.

“You kiss like you fight.”

He pulled her towards him aggressively and kissed her, and she returned his kiss with equal force. It was a bittersweet goodbye, but they knew that it was a beginning too.


	9. The Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pod and Theon engage in some awkward guy talk. Theon and Sansa take the first steps towards a physical relationship.

It was the early in the morning, and Pod was conversing in a hushed tone with the gatekeeper. Theon guessed that he was just returning from a night out. He waited until Pod was closer to ask him.

“How was it?”

Pod was startled to find Theon seated in the shadows of the castle entrance with his sword across his lap and a flask of wine at his side.

“Theon? Why are you awake so early?”

“Marley told me he starts at dawn.”

“Learning a new trade, are you?”

“Guess I’m his new apprentice. Might as well make myself useful. Anyway he did me a favor with fitting this grip. It’s been easier for me to get used to handling a sword. Maybe we can go on a hunt later. I finished shaping some arrowheads yesterday.”

“Sure. But I’m going to get some sleep now. Have you thought about venturing into town?”

“We’ve walked around a bit. Looks like every other town I’ve ever seen.”

“Yes, but I mean…visiting some of the local…establishments.” Pod was now embarrassed to have asked the question.

Theon was amused by Pod’s discomfort with the subject. He hadn't really thought about it, but he supposed that the whores would try to service him so long as he was a paying customer. He would probably be treated as a curiosity or a spectacle.

Although Theon tried not to think about him too often, he cursed Ramsay on a regular basis. Ramsay had cut away certain pieces and left others, which meant that Theon could still experience desire if he gave into it, but then he would only end up feeling frustrated and inadequate. And these were not matters he could easily discuss with anyone, especially not Pod. He and Sansa avoided the topic in general, mainly because of her aversion to being intimate and the fact that they were exhausted most of the time from taking care of the children.

Theon finally responded. “No, Pod. I don't think Sansa would approve. It seems that you’re doing a fine job of keeping the establishments in business.”

Pod smiled awkwardly and turned to go inside. He hoped that Brienne wouldn’t make much of a fuss about him being gone all night. He was already on shaky ground with her – or so he thought – after Jaime Lannister had gotten wind of their whereabouts from one of Pod’s relatives and paid them a visit.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The twins were curled up together in their crib, and Sansa smiled to herself, proud of the fact that they were sleeping for longer periods of time. This meant more rest for her, and she also appreciated having more time in the evenings to visit with Brienne or to spend time with Theon when he wasn’t out exploring the grounds. Lord Selwyn was feeling better and would join them by the fire in the main room from time to time and relay stories of when Brienne was a girl, or he’d talk about fighting alongside Ned and Robert during the rebellion. Sansa could feel her father’s presence through those stories, and it brought her some peace.

On this particular evening, Theon was resting in their bed, and he had opened his eyes to watch her as she picked up a few things around the room. He seemed like he had something on his mind, so Sansa lay down beside him.

He was still quiet, so after a few minutes, she whispered to him. “Can you believe that they’re starting to walk now? Or that we’ll be celebrating their first name day in a few weeks?”

Theon smiled. “This is a really nice place for them to grow up. It won’t be long before I can take them out hunting with me. I’ll have to teach them early, like your father did.” He reached over to her, signaling for Sansa to come closer. She situated herself in his arms, and he lifted his head to rest beside hers.

“Sansa, are you happy here?”

“I am. But I feel like a coward sometimes. Or I wonder when this is going to end. It seems as though the gods can only be generous for so long. We already had those years growing up in Winterfell when it seemed like nothing would harm us.”

“I hope you know that’s why I’ve been working so hard to get my strength back. I’m going after him. I’ve been thinking about going to Pyke and finding my sister. I know she’ll help me. And you and the twins could come. We don’t have to stay here like fugitives anymore.”

“I’m just not ready to leave Brienne and her father. They’ve been so good to us. It’s still too risky. The North is unstable, and the wildlings...after what happened to Jon..." Her voice trailed off, and she thought about her brother. A few months ago, Brienne had finally pulled both Sansa and Theon aside to tell them about Jon’s passing.  

“I know. I’m sorry about Jon. But maybe now would be a good time to catch Roose and Ramsay off guard. Your family still has bannermen that are loyal to the Stark name. And with our union –”

Sansa turned her face away, and Theon could tell that she wasn’t interested in his grand schemes or far-fetched notions for regaining power. “It’s just not the right time, Theon. I understand why you’re thinking about the future, but we have too much here that we need to protect.” Her voice was wavering, and she turned back to look into his eyes. “You will stay with us for a while?”

Theon noticed tears welling up in her eyes, and her bottom lip was trembling. A wave of regret washed over him for giving Sansa the idea that he would ever leave them. “Of course I will. I'm sorry for frightening you.” And he felt compelled to reassure her with a kiss.

Though they had slept side by side for countless nights and often held each other, Theon and Sansa had yet to express their feelings towards the other in a more than platonic way. But he couldn’t hold back any longer, and he pulled her face towards his, caressing her soft cheeks as he kissed her tenderly on the mouth.

Sansa had never really been kissed in that way. As a girl, she had dreamed of her first kiss and imagined a great romantic gesture from a nobleman, instead of the sick games she had been exposed to as a hostage of both Joffrey and Ramsay. Even if she considered the kiss from Petyr on that snowy day in the Eyrie, she recognized now that she had meant nothing to him, and that kiss was just another way he had manipulated her.

With Theon, it was different. She let her lips melt into his, and after a moment, he moved his lips gently down her neck and then back to meet her lips again, where he lingered for some time. He relished in the sensation of a gesture that he had long ago taken for granted and never fully appreciated.

They kissed for hours, as they might have done in their youth, stealing away to somewhere private and wanting to take in as much of the other person as possible before their time would have to end. It was as far as they could go for the time being, but it was more than enough. They fell asleep feeling fulfilled and awoke in the morning to the sounds of cooing and laughter coming from the crib.


	10. On the Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay can't let it go, but Sansa and Theon are more than ready to move on.

The view was cloudy and dreary like always, and it seemed to be in line with Ramsay’s general mood. His father would be expecting him back in a day or two. He’d given Ramsay leave to go as far as the Twins, but Ramsay decided to make camp near Moat Cailin. He had no desire to see the Freys as they would inevitably taunt him about his sow of a step-mother’s ability to bear sons. She had already given birth to one son and was pregnant again. His father seemed less concerned about upskilling Ramsay to one day become warden of the North and more concerned about filling that fat bitch with more Bolton seed to ensure multiple heirs.

It had been exactly two years since Ramsay had defeated Stannis Baratheon’s pathetic attempt to take Winterfell. On that same day, Ramsay’s most prized possession had escaped from Winterfell right under his nose. Not Sansa – he couldn’t have given two shits about Sansa Stark. He was bored with her from the moment he laid eyes on her. He had defiled her like any other whore as she was only of use to him for bearing legitimate sons and pleasing his father. What had really bothered him was that Reek had the balls (and he technically still had balls) to leave Winterfell, to abandon Ramsay, after all of his pain-staking efforts to break him. Reek was his masterpiece, the only person he had ever truly “owned” in mind, body, and spirit. He still felt betrayed by Reek, and he was just as set on finding him now as the day he went missing.

The hounds had only been able to track their scent to the murky waters around Moat Cailin. And so, Ramsay found it fitting that here he was, mourning Reek and reflecting on what he could do differently to find him. For the longest time, Ramsay wondered if Sansa tried to seek refuge with Petyr Baelish or if they had gone to the Iron Islands. He had received word from his emissary that there was no trace of Sansa at the Eyrie, and likewise, there was no evidence that Reek was in Pyke.

Ramsay had spent months interrogating the people in and around Winterfell about the Stark family. He did so on the premise that he was devastated about the death of his wife and that he desperately wanted to find her living sister and tell her in person. Few were fooled by his artificial concern and answered his questions in as vague a manner as possible. They feared the punishment for telling him nothing or telling him something, but his father had forbade him to flay any more of their subjects related to the matter. Ramsay did get away with beating several of the local prostitutes – a few who had even shared a bed with Reek many years ago. He found himself jealous of the whores who recounted times they’d spent with the well-endowed Theon Greyjoy, and not knowing Ramsay’s strange obsessions, spared no details. But none of this information was helpful towards finding Reek or Sansa.

He was now certain they had gone somewhere south, especially since Jon Snow had turned up dead. Poor dumb bastard. Or maybe they were in hiding, perhaps in Dorne where the Lannisters were hated, and someone might take pity on a Stark. His personal guard continued to travel all of Westeros but was finding nothing of value, and Ramsay would have preferred to go out himself. Yet his father threw a fit about the idea as Ramsay was supposedly needed in the North. On more than one occasion, Roose had threatened to disown him if he continued with the search.

After several hours of stewing, Ramsay decided that when the time was right, he would try to get Littlefinger to open up to him more about Sansa’s life since leaving Winterfell the first time. Perhaps there was some information that could be of use to Ramsay in trying to pinpoint where his treasured pet might have gone.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Ramsay was waving a knife around, making stabbing gestures into the air. It was the same knife he had just used to cut out her tongue. She felt a painful, throbbing sensation in her mouth. She tried to cry out, but instead, could only muster a few stifled cries. Blood poured from her lips. Her body was numb, and she was powerless to stop Ramsay from cutting into her sister Arya.

Suddenly, Sansa realized that she was caught in a dream. As she was able to open her eyes, Theon was staring back at her, his arms wrapped around her and his voice trying to calm her. She had startled the children as well, so when he was sure that she was alright, Theon went to scoop them up and bring them into their bed.

Sansa pulled them close and kissed their heads. “I’m sorry, little ones. Your mother had a bad dream, but everything is fine.” It took a while, but they finally settled the children, who fell asleep nestled in between Theon and Sansa.

Theon whispered to her. “That was worse than the others. I couldn’t wake you up.”

“He’s coming for us. In my dream, he was using me as bait to catch Arya. He’s on a hunt.”

“Let him find us. He’s only successful when he preys on the weak.”

“You know that Ramsay doesn’t play fair. He takes what he wants, through whatever means.”

“We must always be vigilant. We just can’t let him control us again.”

“I don’t care what happens to me, but the children…he would be so cruel to them.”

“He’ll never lay a finger on them. No matter what happens, we’ll protect them.” Theon reached over to touch Sansa’s cheek reassuringly, and she put her hand on top of his.

"You're right. There are some things he will never be able to touch." Sansa could see Theon's face through the darkness, and she turned her thoughts to the celebratory events they were planning for the following week. She eventually drifted back to sleep.

Before closing his eyes, Theon paused to admire Ned and Lanny, breathing peacefully and blissfully unaware of the dangers they might encounter one day. Theon loved them with every fiber of his being. At first, he was afraid that it wouldn’t be possible, knowing who their biological father was. And Theon doubted his ability to be anyone’s father after what he’d been through. Yet from the moment he laid eyes on them, Theon knew he wanted to give them something better than what he’d had.

He’d take them for long walks on the grounds, and he and Sansa would take them into town with Brienne once in a while. Lanny reminded him of Yara, always pushing her brother out of the way to be first at something. But Ned was clever and cautious, and he learned to watch his sister and avoid her mistakes. Lanny would often get stuck in the legs of a chair or tangled in the branches in the woods, and Ned would help her figure out how to free herself.

As far as the townspeople were concerned, they were distant relatives of Selwyn Tarth, and they made a picture perfect family. No one would have guessed the scars that they bore or the pain that they carried...or their longing for normalcy. Theon felt they were closer, and in a week's time, he knew they would be even closer.


	11. Sapphire Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne helps Sansa get ready for her wedding.

“Gods, your hair has grown. I wonder what my father would say if I let mine get this long.” Brienne continued combing through Sansa’s long, auburn hair as Sansa grinned back at her in the mirror.

“You should grow yours out.”

“It would just be in the way.”

“What’s the harm? Besides, you never know when a certain someone might come calling.”

Brienne ignored the reference to Jaime Lannister. “Turn around. Let me take a look at you.”

Sansa turned to face Brienne and smoothed out the fabric of her dress while she waited for Brienne’s reaction.

“Beautiful. Just beautiful. You did a marvelous job on the dress.”

Sansa looked in the mirror again. “Well, I love what you did with my hair. Thank you." Sansa hugged Brienne, and Brienne wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

“It feels like my little sister is getting married. I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m nervous, but in a good way. And I’m relieved that we won’t have much of an audience…unlike my last two weddings.”

“I like the idea of just a few people bearing witness to your vows...and the gods, of course.”

“It’s been interesting deciding which gods we should honor. We made sort of a compromise.”

“Well, Maester Amos is barely a priest, but I suppose he’ll do.”

“We’ll have a proper ceremony one day, but for now, this feels real to us.”

“That’s lovely, Sansa. And the children will be fine with Keila.” Ever since the birth of the twins, Keila had become a permanent fixture in the household, helping with the children as needed.

“We’ll be back before they wake up, I bet.” Sansa hugged Brienne again. As she stepped back, Sansa noticed through the window that it was still dark outside. Perfect, she thought. They wanted to time the ceremony with the sunrise.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in.”

Pod stepped inside the room and tried not to have too obvious a reaction to Sansa in her wedding dress, but he was taken aback by her beauty. He was barely able to get his words out. “They’re, um, ready...for you, m’lady.”

Sansa giggled but then composed herself. She took Pod’s arm as he led her down the stairs and out of the front entrance to where Lord Selwyn was waiting for them. Brienne followed behind.

Lord Selwyn assisted Sansa and Brienne onto the carriage, and Pod took them to a secluded area of the nearby beach. Lord Selwyn stepped off of the carriage and helped Sansa get down as well. She could barely see Theon and Maester Amos in the distance. The sun was just beginning to peak over the water.

Brienne and Pod walked ahead of them and took their places. As Sansa and Lord Selwyn approached the shore, she whispered to him. “Lord Selwyn, thank you for accompanying me today. I know this all seems a bit unconventional. I’ll never be able to repay you or Lady Brienne for your kindness.”

“My dear, there’s no need to thank me any more than you already have. You’re a part of our family now. You’ve given Brienne and myself great joy.” Lord Selwyn squeezed Sansa’s hand warmly, and once they were within a few paces of Theon and Maester Amos, they paused.

“Who presents this lady to join with this man?”

“I do. Lord Selwyn Tarth, representing Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn of Winterfell.”

Sansa stiffened at the mention of her parents. She really didn’t want to cry so early in the ceremony, so she took a deep breath, and smiled gratefully at Lord Selwyn for honoring them. Lord Selwyn nodded towards Theon and kissed Sansa’s hand before bowing and moving over to the side with Brienne and Pod.

As she stepped towards Theon, Sansa began to really take in the scene in front of her. She was in awe of the way that the soft blue sky met the water, highlighted by the glow from the rising sun. Theon had scattered red oleander blossoms in the sand and placed lit candles in an arc where he and the Maester were waiting for her. He was dressed in the tunic and pants she had sewn for him. They both wanted to wear something light weight and more representative of Tarth instead of the traditional heavy and dark garb of the North. Sansa had also trimmed his hair for the occasion.

Now it was Theon’s turn to admire his bride. What struck him the most was how happy she looked. Actually, she looked radiant. In addition to her beautiful dress and the bright flowers in her flowing, fiery hair, Theon was entranced by the joy in her eyes and her smile. He lifted her hands into his and kissed her palms.

“I welcome those who have come to witness the marriage of Prince Theon Greyjoy of Pyke and Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell. It is a union that they equally desire, and they have prayed to the gods to accept these vows as binding. There are circumstances that do not permit them to have a formal ceremony, but they do wish to acknowledge their love and commitment to each other and to their children. I will pause now and ask that each of them share their prepared vows with one other and these witnesses.” The Maester nodded towards Sansa.

“Theon, my prince. We’ve known each other since we were children. We witnessed the triumphs and struggles of our families over many years. And then there was a time in between when things went awry. We did what we thought we had to do, and I believe in my heart that it was the gods – not fate – that brought us together when we needed each other the most. You’ve been my playmate, my foe, my friend, my partner, a father to our children, and now, I will ask before our friends and the gods that you become my husband.”

Theon was touched by her words. They had agreed to keep their vows a secret, so he hoped that Sansa would be equally moved.

“Sansa, for a long time, I knew you as Robb’s little sister. And that meant you were someone I should protect. But you know that I belonged to another family in another place, and I let that fealty cloud my judgement. The gods punished me. Even the Drowned God, that I declared my faith to, would see me rot in a hell on earth for what I had done. But then you were there – a light in the darkness. It took me too long to climb out of that darkness, but thankfully, you waited for me on the other side. We started a journey that led us here to this moment. You’ve heard me speak of my baptism and the words that I said: _What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger._ I didn’t know what those words truly meant until you gave me a chance.” Theon paused, and Sansa gave him an encouraging smile.

“Sansa Stark, please do me the proud honor of becoming my wife. I will give you my soul and my life. I will give you the salt of the sea, which courses through my veins. To our children, I promise to love and protect them until the end of my days and beyond.”

And with that, Maester Amos motioned for the couple to move towards the water and to kneel. Sansa let out a small shriek as the cool water rushed over the bottom of her gown and over her feet. Theon laughed and drew her towards him as the Maester scooped water from the rushing waves into his hands and poured it over their heads. Theon remembered seeing something similar at a wedding he attended at a very young age. For him, the sea would always represent life and possibilities.    

Theon and Sansa helped each other rise from the water, and they walked back to the dry sand, standing in front of their friends to say their final vow.

“Theon and Sansa have asked that the end of the ceremony mirror the same words that Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn exchanged when they wed. Therefore, I hereby see you these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words.”

They had both heard these words exchanged at many a ceremony in Winterfell, and Sansa very much wanted to say them with Theon. “Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his/hers, and he/she is mine, from this day, till the end of my days.”

With the light of the fully risen sun and the sparkle of the blue sapphire water behind them, the couple turned to face their friends who were applauding and cheering for them. Theon pulled Sansa towards him, and they kissed deeply, lingering in the moment and almost forgetting about the others. Their thoughts turned to what was yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved putting this together. Hope you like it too!


	12. Anticipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon ponders a few things at their wedding feast.

Theon watched Sansa from across the room as she laughed and danced with the children. Lord Selwyn and Brienne had put together a fine feast for the couple with wild boar, plenty of wine, and a multitude of tiny lemon cakes, which were Sansa’s favorite. Ned and Lanny would likely fall asleep early as they had frolicked around the castle all day and forgone their afternoon nap. Brienne volunteered to have the children stay in her room so that Theon and Sansa could have a night to themselves.

As he drank another cup of wine, Theon let his mind wander to thoughts of their wedding night. He was relieved that there would be no bedding ceremony – it wasn’t the practice in Tarth.

Theon wondered if Sansa was feeling just as nervous as he was. He had seen her naked before, mostly from across the room when she’d disrobe for a bath. He noticed that she had become less and less modest over the past few months. He had not been as brave, still unwilling to show his deformity to her. Theon had a feeling she might insist tonight, but he didn’t really see the point. After all, if Sansa was ready to be intimate with him, he wanted to focus solely on her.

Years ago, when Theon was fucking several different women a week, Sansa would have found him to be a selfish lover, quick to ensure that his needs were being met and barely thinking of the other person with him. Only Ros had ever had the patience or willingness to educate him about how to pleasure a woman. So now was Theon’s chance to be selfless with someone that he cared about.

Sansa finally noticed that his eyes were on her, and she turned away, blushing and then smiling to herself. The servants of Evenfall, having feasted and danced along with everyone else, began to clean up the main room, and Brienne made her way over to Sansa and the children to collect them for bed.

Theon rose from his seat and went to kiss Ned and Lanny goodnight. The twins were happy to go with Brienne, knowing she would entertain them with tales of her many adventures until they fell asleep. Theon mouthed the words “thank you” to Brienne as she ushered the children towards the steps. He bowed in front of Sansa and offered his hand to her. “Are you ready to turn in, my bride?”  

Sansa nodded and accepted his hand, rising up from her seat. They both thanked the servants and said good-night to Lord Selwyn as well as Pod, who was quite drunk and barely able to stand. Theon was glad that he had only downed a few glasses of wine. He would have been embarrassed to fall asleep or pass out on such an important night.


	13. Hers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon gives Sansa a wedding present.

Theon closed the door to their room and placed the lantern on the nearby table. Before he could take another step, Sansa practically threw herself at him as she was tipsy from the wine and anxious about what he was expecting from her. Theon was surprised at her forwardness but helped her unwind by sitting her down on the bed and massaging her neck and shoulders. He ran his fingers over her hair in a soothing motion.

“Sansa, we have all night. There’s no need to hurry.”

“I know. But Theon…can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

Sansa took a deep breath. “A part of me wants this and a part of me wants it to be over. Does that sound horrible?”  

“No, I understand. We can stop whenever you want to...but trust me, this is not something to just get out of the way.” His lips were now on her neck, and he moved them downward to the nape of her neck and around her collarbone. Sansa sighed, relaxing into his touch. She turned around to meet his lips, and he gently pushed her onto the bed, continuing to move his lips to just above the bodice of her dress.

They kissed for awhile, as they had done many times lately. Theon then moved his hands to the back of her dress. “May I, m'lady?” She nodded, and he began to unfasten the ribbons and buttons, pushing the sleeves down and exposing her simple white garment underneath. He ran his fingers over the thin material, pausing purposefully over Sansa’s breasts, and encircling their peaks with the tips of his fingers. Sansa trembled at the sensation and gave Theon an approving glance. He smiled back at her and started to slowly work her dress all the way off.

Sansa pulled at Theon’s tunic, and he undid his belt and lifted the shirt over his head. Now his chest was exposed, and it was Sansa's turn to push him back onto the bed, moving her lips over his neck and chest. She paused for a moment to look down at him, her breasts almost spilling out of her garment. Even in the dim light of the room, she could see scars on his body that he’d never let her touch before. She also noticed the well-defined muscles in his chest and arms, a physique that he had worked to regain over the past few years. He was quite different from the frail, withering man with whom she’d jumped from the wall at Winterfell.

Because Sansa was ready to give herself to Theon and to be completely vulnerable, she hoped that he was willing to do the same. She started to loosen his pants. Sansa knew what was no longer there, but she wanted Theon to know that it didn’t matter to her.

He quickly pushed her hands away and pulled her towards him. “Sansa, don’t worry about that right now. Let me do the work. Nothing will bring me more pleasure than knowing that you’re enjoying our time together.”  

Sansa kissed him again, wanting to protest, but deciding against it. Theon slowly pulled the thin gown over her head. Sansa smoothed out her hair and pulled it behind her shoulders, looking at him demurely but allowing him to take in every inch of her naked body. He was in total awe of her beauty. Her soft pale skin and supple breasts. Her curvy thighs and long shapely legs.

Theon began caressing her breasts, stopping to kiss her on the mouth and then slipping his tongue between her soft lips. He gradually brought one of his hands between her thighs, but she pulled her legs together to stop him from going any further. She just needed a moment.

"I won't hurt you."

"I know."

Theon waited until she was relaxed, and once she opened her thighs to him, he gently stroked her, moving his fingers back and forth, ever so slightly.

Sansa was not completely naïve to where he was touching her or the effect it was having on her. Back at King’s Landing, her hand-maiden Shae had insisted that Sansa get to know her own body. At that point in time, Sansa was to become Joffrey’s queen or the lady of Ser Loras, and Shae informed her that she might as well enjoy the process for making little heirs. Sansa remembered Shae describing certain parts of a woman's anatomy that were pleasure points.

She began to rock gently along with his touch, searching for his lips with her mouth. He slowly moved his hand away from between her thighs and brought her to the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor. “Sansa, may I?” She wasn’t entirely sure what he was asking until she saw him spreading her legs wider and kissing the insides of her thighs, moving his lips and tongue closer to where she was feeling the tingling sensation. He put a gentle pressure on that spot with his tongue and began to move it in a circular motion. He ran his tongue downward, darting it in and out of her, tasting her. She was moving with him now in a rhythmic motion as soft moans escaped from her mouth.

Theon sensed she was getting closer to climaxing, and he wanted to have her in his arms. He slowly rejoined Sansa on the bed, using his fingers to maintain the pleasure he was bringing her. He kissed her breasts, and then pressed his lips into hers, momentarily stifling her moans.

Sansa felt as though she was losing control of her body. She wasn’t sure she trusted herself to such a feeling of wanton abandonment. But there was Theon, looking so proud of himself for bringing her into this state of dizziness, wanting so much to relieve her concerns about intimacy. He continued to apply gentle and consistent pressure with his fingers, and before long, Sansa felt a sudden release of pleasure, almost as if a wave had crashed into her and now she was floating somewhere, and crying out from sheer arousal.

He waited until her moans quieted before gently moving his hand away and then pulling her still trembling body towards him. He kissed her neck and buried his face into her soft hair, running the tip of his nose around her ear and whispering that he loved her. She turned her face to kiss him on the lips. She was sorry for what she had said earlier about wanting this to be over with quickly. Now she better understood what all the fuss was about. Sansa linked hands with him as they murmured sweet words to each other and drifted to sleep.


	14. His

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa gives Theon a wedding present.

Sansa and Brienne had taken the children into town, and Theon decided to grab a hot bath after an intense training session with Brienne. He was thankful for the session as he was able to release some pent-up frustration during their sparring.

Theon had been thinking about his time with Sansa from a few days before and wishing that he hadn't felt so frustrated afterwards. As much as he tried to suppress it, he couldn't help but be aroused when he was with her. But he didn't really have an outlet for those feelings. He grimaced as he remembered Ramsay’s mocking words about his phantom limb and having the desire without the equipment.

Theon had been attracted to Sansa many times over the years, but now having been with her sexually, he worried about how he would control his ever-growing desire towards her. He wanted to make her feel like that as soon as possible, but he also wanted to rid himself of feeling stifled and unfulfilled. Maybe he was being selfish again.  

After several minutes of sitting in the warm water, Theon got out of the tub and draped a towel loosely around his waist. He stepped into the bedroom and was shocked to see Sansa there, naked in all of her glory with her long hair pulled into a braid that ran down her back.

He stammered. "What are you doing here?"

Sansa smiled coyly. "I didn't have a chance to give you your wedding present."

Theon shook his head and started to move away from her, but she was determined. She backed him into a corner and began to rub her body against his, circling his chest with the tips of her fingers and kissing his lips and then the sides of his neck.

"Sansa...what do you want?"

"I want you to stop sulking." She continued to move her lips downward, along with her hands, and she met his hands that were pressed into the towel, which he had now pulled tightly around his waist. But Sansa loosened his grip and swiftly pulled the towel away from him. Without a word, she had moved to her knees, and she was tenderly kissing the inside of his thighs. She gently stroked his testicles and the skin around them and eventually moved her lips to massage him with her mouth.

At first, Theon felt exposed and ashamed. He wanted her to put her clothes back on and leave him. He kept telling himself that she was wasting her time and embarrassing both of them, but another voice told him to let go and to trust her.

He started to relax and enjoy the idea of this beautiful woman on her knees for his benefit. Theon placed his hands on her head and massaged the back of her neck. This was a new sensation for him, having all of this focused attention on everything except for what he was most used to. He was breathing harder and harder and beginning to lose himself in the moment. 

And then he wanted to let Sansa in on the fun, so he pulled her up to meet him and kissed her deeply, using his lips to express his gratitude for what she was doing. They moved over to the bed, and she pushed him towards the wall. He was reaching for her, wanting to touch her, but she clearly had something else in mind.  

"Theon, will you let me try something?"

"I don't know. What is it?"

She moved his legs apart, pushing his knees slightly upwards with his feet resting on the bed. She had picked up a small container and dipped her fingers into a soft liquid.

"Where did you get that?"

"From Keila."

"Did you tell her about –”

"No, of course not. I just told her that I wanted to try some new things with you. She suggested exploring some new places...of the back end variety."

"Sansa...I'm not so sure about this."

But she was. Sansa brought her finger between his legs and began to apply the liquid around and just inside of him. She continued gently touching him until she could easily push her finger deeper, waiting for a few minutes, and then pushing her finger in further until she came upon that something that Keila had told her about. Theon was uncomfortable at first but then he was intrigued by what was happening. He started to massage the sensitive skin behind his testicles and also motioned for Sansa to come closer so that he could touch her.

They watched each other ebb and flow through different waves of sensations. It was a delicate dance, both of them applying gentle pressure and pushing their fingers deeper into one another, rocking back and forth, moaning and moving closer to climax. Sansa finished first and threw her head back, crying out and almost forgetting herself in the moment, letting her fingers rest for just a few seconds but then returning her attention to Theon.

He wasn't sure how it happened, but it was soon after Sansa's climax that he felt a strong burst of pleasure. The feeling grew from where Sansa was touching him and spread throughout his entire body. It was unlike the orgasms he remembered from before. He wrapped his legs around Sansa and pulled her into his arms, kissing her hungrily as he shuddered for several minutes and then collapsed into her warm embrace.

She kissed him softly on the forehead, and he looked up at her. Theon caressed her face, rubbing his thumb across her cheek, admiring the contented look on her face.

Not once had she looked at him with disgust or moved away in horror at the site of his phantom limb. He was grateful to her but couldn't find the right words. So he simply said _Thank you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took awhile for them to get here, but dammit, I wanted to give Theon and Sansa some dignity back after Ramsay took it from them.


	15. Something in Common

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the request of his father, Ramsay visits the Eyrie.

Lord Baelish was an important man, a key political figure. It had been drilled into Ramsay’s head for years now, but did the arrogant cunt have to keep him waiting so long? Or could the knights of the Vale have at least offered him some refreshment after his long journey from Winterfell?

Despite the fact that Ramsay was used to the bitter cold, he couldn’t help but wish to be in front of a fire, warming his hands and feet. Instead, he was standing in the High Hall of the Vale as the wind whipped through the large hole in the floor and cascaded fiercely around the circular walls.

Finally, the large door opened behind him, and Ramsay noticed the guards turn to attention. Ramsay watched Lord Baelish ascend the steps to the throne. He noted that Littlefinger looked rather garish, wearing far too many adornments on his robes. Not far behind Baelish was an awkward lad of about sixteen or seventeen. Ramsay knew that this must be Robin Arryn, Lord of the Vale, although it was obvious to most that he was merely Baelish’s puppet. He even sat on a makeshift throne that was lower than the actual throne where Lord Baelish was now perched. Ramsay bowed down along with the others present in the room.

“Ramsay Bolton.” Baelish’s voice echoed against the walls. “When they told me Lord Bolton was here, I was expecting your father.”

Ramsay smirked and shifted his footing. “Lord Baelish, many pardons. I’m sure it’s a bit of a disappointment for you.”

“No apologies needed. I just don’t see as much of your father as I’d like. And you…well, it’s been sometime. How is life at Winterfell these days? I hear you have a few siblings now. What is it, two brothers?”

“Yes, m’lord. Half-brothers. And I’m sure you’ve heard that there’s been growing unrest and discord in the North. What with the great migration of the wildlings and certain sympathizers siding against my father. He was hoping to unite the North against those dirty maggots, but some Northerners seem to believe their tall tales of White Walkers and allowed them to infiltrate our villages.”

“Interesting. I wonder if your father might have done better to work towards a peace agreement with the wildlings. If we are ever to take the seven kingdoms back, mightn’t we have convinced them to be on our side?”

“With all due respect, Lord Baelish, the wildlings can’t be trusted, and they have no organization, no loyalty, and no skill. They must be stamped out, along with any of their northern supporters. My father sent me here to ask you for support, and then I am to go to King’s Landing to do the same. We want to restore order in the North, but the wildlings have been an unseen force to reckon with.”

Lord Baelish stared back at Ramsay, pondering what he would say next. But Robin spoke first.

“Are you a Lord?”

Ramsay begrudgingly turned towards Robin and answered him curtly. “Why, yes, Lord Arryn, pleased to make your acquaintance. I am son of Roose Bolton, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. I represent my father today and stand to inherit from him.”

“And you’ve come to admit defeat?”

Ramsay responded slowly, choosing his words carefully so as not to sound disrespectful. “Actually, my Lord, I’ve come to ask for assistance from you and Lord Baelish as our allies. The problems that we face in the North may seem far from here, but I assure you, they have the potential to –”

“Robin, these are all reasonable questions, but we mustn’t take up too much of young Ramsay’s time. I’m sure he would like to rest. Let me finish speaking with him, and you go ahead to supper. I’ll be there soon.”

“But Uncle, why is the Moon Door open if we’re not going to use it?”

“Another excellent question, my boy. Someone forgot to close it, I suppose.” Lord Baelish smiled at Robin and nudged him gently so that he would rise and excuse himself. Once Robin had left the High Hall, Lord Baelish motioned for Ramsay to come closer. Ramsay took a few steps forward, but that was as close as he could get without walking through the hole in the floor, or the Moon Door, as it were.

“Yes, m'lord?”

“Ramsay, you and your men can stay here for the night. It’s the least I can do since you have some travel ahead of you.”

“And the reinforcements?”

“Why don’t you pass by here again after you’re spoken with the King. I’d like to be in unison with his position on the matter. No need to sacrifice any of our men here if the Crown is satisfied with the current state in the North. I think your father has handled things as best as possible, and he’s holding his own.”

“But, Lord Baelish –”

“Ramsay, did you know that we have something in common? Something out of the ordinary?”

“I’m not entirely sure what you are referring to, m’lord.”

“Yes, well, you see the Moon Door right in front of you? I’m sure you’re familiar with its standard use, but did you know that my bride used it to take her life – not long after we were married? The same sort of travesty befell your beloved Sansa Stark, did it not?”

“Yes, m’lord. It was a dark day for all of us.”

“You know, I had a reputation in King’s Landing for my vast array of spies, sources of information. My sources around Winterfell tell me that you’ve been asking a lot of questions about the Stark family, particularly Arya Stark?”

“I wanted to find her and let her know about Lady Sansa’s untimely passing.”

“I see. But Arya hasn’t been seen in years. Were you hoping to marry her as well?”

Ramsay didn’t care for Littlefinger’s tone, but he continued to play along. “No, m’lord. I am to marry one of the Frey girls upon my return.”

“Ah, yes. A much better match for you, I think. Well, then you’ll be wanting a bed warmer tonight, I would imagine. Consider it an early wedding gift.”

“That’s kind of you, Lord Baelish.”

“My guards will see you to your chambers. And Ramasy?”

“Yes, m’lord?”

“See that you don’t harm the girl that I am gifting to you for this evening. You didn’t take proper care of the last gift I gave you, and she was of great value to all of us.”

Ramsay managed to give Littlefinger a half nod and bowed before turning to follow the guard out of the High Hall. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms, wanting to punch something or someone, and wondering why his father had sent him on this pointless mission.

It was clear to Ramsay that he would get no useful information from Littlefinger related to his quest to locate Sansa and Reek. That pompous ass was only good for warming his balls on ill-gotten thrones and hiding behind the skirts of lesser men with bigger titles. Useless cunt. And another dead end.


	16. Adventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins are older now, and Theon spends some quality time with them.

“That makes four now, Father! And Ned only has one!”

“Yes, Lanny. But Ned only used two arrows. You’ve gone through about twenty.”

“But I’ve hit four times. That’s four pheasants for the cook. She’ll be pleased.”

“Yes, my girl. You have the right instincts. We’ll just keep working on your accuracy.”

Theon patted Lanny on the head and gave her a small hug as she beamed with pride.  

“We’ll keep practicing then?”

“Of course.”

“Can you tell Maester Amos that I need more time for my archery lessons?”

“I’ll think about it, Lanny, but you’ve been enjoying your other lessons just as much. Let’s find Ned. He’s wandered off again somewhere. Give me your bow.”

“Thank you, Father, but I’ll carry it.”

Theon smiled and picked up the sack of pheasant carcasses, flinging it over his shoulder and then reaching for his daughter’s hand. She pulled him forward as if she already had a sense of where Ned might be. And a few paces later, Lanny spotted him crouched behind a tree, digging in the dirt.

“There he is.”

Ned looked up at them innocently and wiped his face with the back of his hand, leaving a smudge of dirt on his freckled cheek. He was the spitting image of his mother, tall and lean, with fiery red hair, bright blue eyes, and a quiet smile. “Is it time for a snack yet?”

Theon nodded. “I don’t see why not. What were you looking for in the dirt, Ned?”

“Oh, nothing special. Just some kind of insect that I could show Maester Amos.”

“Why don’t you try catching something with your bow and arrow?” Lanny was standing over her brother with her arms crossed, shaking her head with a furrowed brow as her long dark hair swung behind her shoulders. She was shorter than Ned but still seemed to tower over him.

“Maybe later.” Ned knew it would infuriate Lanny if he shot down more birds than her, and he probably would. He was secretly proud that he took after his father in regards to his archery skills, but he would never boast about it to Lanny. She’d be jealous.

“Leave him be, Lanny. Let’s have something to eat.”

The three of them sat on a nearby log and munched on a few of the items that Sansa had packed for them. Theon had invited her to join them, but she had welcomed an afternoon to herself.

“Father, you forgot to take your gloves off.”

Ned looked over at Lanny and scowled at her. “Lanny, it doesn’t matter. He can eat with them on if he wants to.”

“It’s fine. I’ll take them off.” The children had seen his hands many times before, but Lanny had become increasingly curious as to why he had fewer fingers than everyone else. Ned usually preferred to avoid the topic, but Theon knew that Lanny would ask again. She was fascinated with the story he had told her before and most any story that he and Sansa had shared from their past.

“What happened to your fingers?”

Ned interjected quickly. “Father’s told you before. A bad man took them away.”

“That’s right. There was a great war in the North several years ago…before your mother and I came here. I was captured, and the person who took me was not kind.”

“But why did he cut off your fingers?”

“I guess he wanted to show me how powerful he was.”

“Where were your mother and father? Why didn’t they stop him?" Lanny probably had at least a dozen more questions. Ned sighed and jumped off the log to return to his digging.

Theon looked at Lanny and rubbed her shoulder gently. “They were too far away. I didn’t live with my parents back then. My older sister tried to help me, but the bad man stopped her.”

“Aunt Yara? When can we meet Aunt Yara?”

“Someday, Lanny. But remember, we shouldn’t speak of her with anyone outside of the castle.”

“Because we’re going to surprise her?”

“Yes. We’ll sail the Narrow Sea and cross over the Riverlands to Ironman’s Bay. She’ll never see us coming.”

“Let’s sail all the way around until we get to Pyke. We’ll have all kinds of adventures on the sea!”

Ned spoke up. “I think we should stay here. I like it here. And Aunt Brienne is just as good as anyone else.”

“But don’t you want to go exploring, Ned?” Lanny wished her brother was more adventurous. He seemed perfectly content within the walls of Evenfall, but she was often bored. The few times they had gone down to the docks with Podrick, Lanny had wondered what it would be like to hop aboard one of the ships and see the world outside of Tarth.

Her parents sometimes spoke of their lives before Tarth, mostly the happy memories they had from growing up in Winterfell. Lanny knew that she and Ned were named in memory of their grandmother and grandfather, but her parents didn’t talk much about them or the rest of their families – other than Yara. Lanny sensed that the time during the war had been difficult for both of her parents, but surely things were better now.

“Your mother and I have been talking about seeing more of Tarth. What do you think, Ned?”

Ned shrugged his shoulders. “Fine with me.”

“Lanny?”

“Can we take a boat around the Isle?”

“We’ll see. Let’s head back and see what else we can catch on the way to the castle.”

“Yes, and let’s tell Mother about our plan. I’ll start packing tonight.”


	17. The Soak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some good ole bath tub sex...tee-hee!

Theon stepped into their bedroom and noticed a soft glow coming from the adjoining room. He proceeded quietly inside to find Sansa relaxing in the bath tub. Her head was resting on the side closest to him, and he paused to admire the silhouette of her body in the water.

“Are they asleep?” She must have heard him come inside the room.

Theon walked around the tub and rested on the edge facing Sansa, gliding the tips of his fingers over the water as she opened her eyes.

“Yes. Lanny wouldn’t stop talking about sailing the Narrow Sea, but she finally settled down.”

“I wish you hadn’t mentioned taking a trip. That’s all she could talk about at dinner. We won’t hear the end of it unless we actually go.” Sansa had crossed her arms across her chest and raised her legs so that the tops of her knees were peeking out of the water.

Theon chuckled softly, but he knew she was right. “I’m sorry. I was trying to distract her. She was asking a lot of questions about the past. Besides, I think it’s time we ventured out some more."

Sansa sighed, moving her arms back to her sides and sinking back into the water. Their journey to Tarth seemed like so long ago, but it was still vivid in their memories – running and hiding and scrounging for food, not knowing if they were being followed or if they would be so fortunate as to live to see another day of freedom. Still, Theon figured it was better to think about where they were now.

“So…is it out of the question for me to join you?”

Sansa’s rather serious expression turned into a half-grin. “I don’t know. You look pretty grimy after your afternoon excursion.” Theon splashed water towards her, and she splashed some back at him, soaking his pants. “Fine, but if you’re coming in, add some more hot water first."

Theon laughed and located the slightly steaming bucket of water next to the tub. He poured the water into the base of the tub and rolled up his sleeve before swirling the fresh water into the lukewarm soapy water.

As he began to unlace his boots and pull off his clothes, Sansa shifted forward to make room for him. He climbed in behind her and wrapped his arms and legs around her. She moved her back towards him, resting her head against his shoulder.

“You’re not afraid to travel, are you?”

Sansa turned into his body. “No, I’m not afraid. I suppose we can’t hide here forever."

“We’ll go for a night or two…with Lord Selwyn. Just to see more of the Isle and then come back.”

Sansa nodded and moved her hand to the back of Theon’s neck, gently tugging on the ends of his hair. “Let me wash it.”

He shook his head. “I just got comfortable.” Theon leaned in to kiss her, and Sansa pushed under him until he was above her in the water. They were floating just an inch or so from the bottom of the tub as Theon pressed his body into hers, kissing her deeply.

Sansa shifted away, inching backwards to grab a bar of soap, but Theon moved his arm quickly to pull hers back towards him. He drew her fingers to his lips, tracing her fingertips with his tongue and then moving her fingers in and out of his mouth. She watched him intently as he pulled her hand under the water, running her fingers from her navel downward between her thighs. She began to move her fingers back and forth, and he pushed his fingers slowly inside her.

Sansa let out a soft gasp and continued to touch herself while Theon shifted beside her. He pushed his tongue over the tips of her breasts, lapping at the water that was barely covering them as he watched the pleasure spread across her face. She arched her neck and back into the air as he pushed his fingers into her harder and faster.

Theon was learning how to let his arousal build along with hers. He eventually guided her hands to touch him as he stroked her rhythmically. They both became lost in the warmth of each other’s touch, making waves in the water and filling the air with moans that grew louder and louder.

Sansa moved her body on top of Theon and pulled his hand between her legs, moving up and down against his palm rapidly until she could feel the sensation ready to burst inside of her. Theon rubbed the tips of her breasts with his lips as she cried out, eventually sinking into him.

Sansa resumed massaging the sensitive area between his legs. She began moving up and down again, simulating intercourse as he rubbed his hands over her breasts and thighs. When he was close to climaxing, Theon grabbed the sides of the tub and threw his head back. He didn’t want to wake the rest of the castle, so he gritted his teeth, and only a slight groan escaped his lips as he came.

As he basked in the afterglow of his orgasm, Sansa reached for the bar of soap and worked up a lather. Then she washed his hair as gently as the day she had done so by the stream in the woods.


	18. Easy As Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay gains some useful information on his way to King's Landing.

It had been several days since his last hot meal, and that was back at the Eyrie. Ramsay was more than happy to bid farewell to the Vale lest he have to see Littlefinger again and be subject to more of his digs. What right did Petyr Baelish have to belittle someone who had fought in actual battles versus someone who had wormed his way to the top through blackmail, manipulation, and mostly luck?  

Before Ramsay departed, Littlefinger had demanded to read the message that he wanted to send by raven to his father. But Roose had predicted this and had told Ramsay to sign the message with his full name if all went well and to only sign it with an “R” if Littlefinger didn’t want to cooperate. He had merely written: “Be home in a few weeks. R.” Littlefinger allowed the raven to take flight, so at least Roose would know where things stood with their supposed ally.

Ramsay was traveling more discreetly than he would have liked. In his father’s words: _You’re a lord now and a target for kidnapping and ransom or just plain old thievery. Be extra cautious._ Ramsay was certain that he and his men could take on anyone who tried to fuck with them, but he had chosen to mostly heed his father’s advice. Mostly.

Upon nearing the Kingsroad, Ramsay decided to stay at the Crossroads Inn for the night. He’d ordered a few of his party to set up camp down the road while he and two of his guards went to enjoy a meal and some ale before turning in.

A little relaxation was just what he needed after a few days of traveling through the unforgiving, rocky terrain. Ramsay was rather pleased to be staying at the Inn, where he knew many a nobleman had passed through, going to and from King’s Landing. He’d finished his dinner and downed several mugs of ale with his men and then sent them off to bed. He had every intention of drinking some more and perhaps inquiring about an available wench to liven up his evening.

Ramsay was lost in thought about his last really good fuck when a plump and homely lad approached his table.

“M’lord, would you like more stew? I see that you ate every last bit from your plate. I made quite a lot of it this evening, so I’m happy to serve you some more. Besides, you look like a proper lord and all.”

Ramsay was annoyed by the intrusion of this blubbering halfwit, but he welcomed the idea of more food. “A proper lord, am I? What makes you think so?”

“Well…I noticed that you were eating with a couple of heavily armed men. And your horses outside look well fed. What’s that sigil hanging from their saddles? Some sort of hanged man?”

A halted laugh escaped from his lips. “Close. I’m Ramsay Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort. My father is Lord Roose Bolton, Warden of the North. Our sigil is the flayed man. Surely you’ve heard of my family, or do you eat, sleep, and shit in that kitchen of yours?” Ramsay didn’t raise his voice, but he did have a rather condescending tone.

“Beg pardon, m’lord. Of course I’m familiar with the great House Bolton. Them wildlings have been keeping you and your people busy, eh, m’lord?”

“Busy? Hardly. They’re no match for our armies. But they do have sympathizers…some northerners and all the way to the Iron Islands. I should have killed that bitch Yara Greyjoy when I had the chance.”

“Yes, m’lord. They don’t belong down here with us proper folk. Well then…I’ll run along and get you that stew.”

“Now, wait a minute. What’s your name, tubby? Sit down here and have a drink with me.”

“Yes, of course, m’lord. They call me Hot Pie. I guess that’s because I’ve always liked to cook. Or maybe it’s because I’ve always liked to eat.” Hot Pie wiped his hands across his apron and pulled a stool next to the table.

“Hot Pie, is it? Well, maybe you can point me in the direction of the nearest brothel.”

“Sure. I know the area well. Been here a number of years. There’s a place a little ways down on the left side of the road. You can’t miss it. There’ll be whores lining up outside.”

Ramsay nodded in approval and took another swig from his mug. Hot Pie decided to continue the conversation.

“M’lord, you live up ways of Winterhell, I mean, Winterfell? You was married to Sansa Stark for a tick, no?”

“Yes, I was. May the gods rest her soul. What a tragedy. Just married and she goes and kills herself.” Ramsay thought he would play the part of the devastated widower for his new friend.

“That’s what I thought. But if you don’t mind me saying…strange that she agreed to marry you after your kinfolk killed her kinfolk.”

“Sansa knew that her brother was foolhardy and way in over his head. She wanted to marry me and unite the North…and we were very much in love. But she couldn’t handle all of those memories when she came back to Winterfell.”

“That’s very sad, m’lord. Have you heard from her sister…Arya?”

Ramsay perked up at the mention of Arya. Why would this simple idiot be concerned about Arya Stark? Ramsay didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to get more information. He tried to think of something that truly saddened him so that he could conjure up some tears. He wanted Hot Pie to take pity on him and open up. Nothing particularly sad came to mind, so Ramsay dramatically wiped the corners of his eyes and took a deep breath.

“You know, I haven’t talked about Sansa’s death in such a long time. I’ve been holding in the pain for so long. And Arya…I never met her, but I feel connected to her somehow. I’ve been trying to find her, assuming that she’s still alive, to bring her the news myself. I just can’t –” Ramsay pretended to be choked up, and Hot Pie looked around uncomfortably before patting Ramsay lightly on the shoulder.

“There, there, m’lord. Whenever I get upset like that, I cook something. I made a new dish last week, just kept adding layers of things – carrots, potatoes, celery – all kinds of herbs and spices, some chicken and gravy. Topped it off with a nice flaky crust. The butter made it extra rich, and I browned it just so in the oven. It was a sight to behold. My mouth is watering just thinking about that dish. It was the butter...”

Ramsay didn’t know how much more he could listen to, so he got right to the point. “So you know Arya? When did you last see her? And do you know where I can find her?”

“Well, now, I try to keep my mouth shut about things of the past. Like a while back, this strange fellow, guess he was from up North, came around here questioning people about Arya Stark, wanting to know where he could find her. He was offering money for any information, but I didn’t care for the likes of him, so I didn’t say anything. But you, m’lord, you seem like a decent fellow, and you must have deeply cared for Sansa."

Ramsay figured that Hot Pie was referring to his own hired man who had traversed nearly all of Westeros in search of any information about Arya or Sansa or Reek. The last time that he came to Ramsay with no leads, Ramsay had turned his hounds on the useless lackey.

Hot Pie continued. “But he wasn’t the first to come looking for Arya. Matter of fact, there was a knight…or a lady, I guess and her squire, that stopped in and mentioned they was searching for Sansa, actually, and I told her that I knew Arya. Me and Arya met in King’s Landing a while back. We were traveling together to take the black. I know, strange to think about Arya taking the black, but she had disguised herself as a boy back then…”

As Hot Pit prattled on, Ramsay was trying to figure out what lady he was referring to and if it even mattered. “Wait, stop. This lady you mentioned. Why was she looking for Sansa? Didn’t she know that Sansa was dead?”

“No, no. This was a while ago. Around the time King Joffrey was killed by his uncle. You know, the imp. No one’s seen hair nor hide of him since he killed his father. Wonder what made him so mad at his family? Maybe because he was born –”

“Half Pie. Focus. The lady?”

“Oh, yes, the lady. She said that she swore an oath to Catelyn Stark to find and protect her daughters and to bring them home safely. Of course, I guess you beat her to it…well, with Sansa…until she killed herself, that is.”

“And who was this woman? You said she might be a knight?”

“Yes, because she was wearing armor. And because she had a squire, like I said. Her name was Brienne of Tark…or something like that.”

“Brienne of Tarth? You now there’s an actual place called _Tarth_.”

“Yes, right, right. Tall woman, big boned. Short hair and very curt. She liked my kidney pie. I remember her quite well. She was really concerned for those girls. I sure would like to see Arya again, make her a loaf of bread. I’m pretty good with baking loaves into different shapes. Guess I could bake a flayed man for you, but I’m not sure if it would be all that appetizing.”

Ramsay wasn’t paying attention to Hot Pie any longer. He’d never met Brienne the Beauty, but his father had talked about her. So had Locke. She was a sworn sword to Catelyn Stark, but she had been elsewhere when his father had put the knife into Robb Stark and Catelyn got her throat slit by Black Walder.

This was more of a lead than anything he’d had in years, but Ramsay didn’t have any real proof that Sansa and Reek were with Brienne. And he didn’t know where Brienne was for that matter. Maybe she was back with her father, old Selwyn Tarth, but in reality, they could be anywhere. Lord Selwyn was known for staying neutral and avoiding conflicts at all cost. Would he be willing to harbor a Stark and a Greyjoy? It was a theory at least worth exploring.

Ramsay stood up abruptly from the table and startled Hot Pie who was now talking about the best types of ovens for baking bread. Ramsay was so thrilled with this new piece of information that he shook Hot Pie’s hands in gratitude. It was all he could do not to wake up his men and get started back on the road. He didn’t want to waste any more time, but he also wanted to think through a plan.

He needed an ally – someone who hated Sansa as much as he wanted Reek back under his thumb. Ramsay had to be careful but also move as swiftly as possible. His father would grow impatient with him if he didn’t return to Winterfell as soon as planned, but maybe there was a way to get what he wanted and to please his father and the Crown, or at least, the Queen Mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Hot Pie...how could you? ;)


	19. Love Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of the Brienne and Jamie ship as well as news from Pyke.

Another day, another morning of taking in the salty air of the Isle, and Brienne was hoping for another letter. Then again, she wouldn’t really call them letters, more like notes…love notes. She smiled to herself, knowing that Jaime might cringe if he knew she referred to his messages as love notes.

He only sent them from Casterly Rock with the seal of the Lannister lion embedded in sapphire blue wax. She had to be quick to visit her father’s study and intercept the notes before he could get ahold of them. Not that he would understand the messages, but he sure as hell would want to know why the Lannisters were sending sketches of ships in the water or profiles of a woman who resembled Brienne, only with softer eyes. She figured that was the way Jaime imagined her from afar.

Sometimes he would just write a word or a phrase. And her heart would race when she broke the seal on the notes where he had written a season and a time of day – sunrise or sunset. That always meant he would be passing through on his way somewhere close by – usually to Dorne to see Trystane Martell. He had come back to Tarth a handful of times over the past few years, always on “official business,” but they would find a way to sequester themselves somewhere and make up for lost time.

Brienne ran her fingers over her lips, remembering the warmth of Jaime’s kiss and the softness of his mouth on hers. He knew that she would only go so far with him, not because she didn’t desire him but because of her honor and unwillingness to settle for a mere tryst. She deeply believed that one day he would come to her father to ask for her hand. It would require renouncing his post with the Kingsguard, but Brienne knew she was worth that kind of sacrifice, so she waited.

On this particular morning, there wasn’t a note from Jaime, but there was a curious seal that she hadn’t seen in years – the kraken from House Greyjoy. What could Balon Greyjoy possibly want? Surely he had no knowledge that his last living son was in Tarth. Nor would he have cared since everyone in Westeros knew that Yara Greyjoy was re-building the iron armies with wildlings and anyone else who wanted to see new leadership in the North. She wasn’t playing by Balon Greyjoy’s rules anymore – he was more of a figurehead anyway – and Yara was willing to do things that hadn’t been done before. Her gambles were paying off as the ironborn were stronger than ever. Theon knew some of this, and he was proud of his sister, but Brienne could tell that Yara’s successes reminded Theon of what a failure he had been in his father’s eyes.

Brienne slowly opened the letter to reveal what she should have guessed from the beginning – Balon Greyjoy was dead, and Yara was declaring her claim over Pyke. _Good for you, old girl,_ thought Brienne. In another time and place, she and Yara could have been the best of friends.

Just then, Sansa appeared in the doorway with Lanny in tow. She tapped on the frame of the doorway. “Good morning, Brienne. Any news?”

“Good morning, my ladies. Little Lanny, why the frown?” Brienne held out her arms, and Lanny let go of her mother’s hand and scampered over to make herself comfortable in Brienne’s lap.

“She’s being forced to spend the day with her mother. And worse, we’re going to bake a cake and mend some dresses. Oh, the horrors.” 

“I wanted to go with father and Ned into town. I don’t want to bake or sew. It’s far too boring.”

“Now Lanny, it doesn’t matter what you do but that you get to spend the day with your mother.” Brienne would have given anything to be with her mother for a day, just to be in her presence – even if she had them doing frilly girl things. She couldn’t remember much about her mother, but she knew that she was lovely and full of grace.

“Maybe Brienne will join us later. Come on, Little Bug. And when we finish up, we can go outside for a walk.” Lanny gave her mother a slight smile and slowly left Brienne’s lap, rejoining her mother by the door.

“Sansa. Could I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course. Lanny, go on downstairs and ask the cook for your breakfast. I’ll be right there.”

Lanny looked at the two women and figured they had some adult matter to discuss that probably wouldn’t interest her anyway. “Alright, mother. Good bye for now, Auntie.”

Sansa stepped inside the room as Brienne pulled out a chair for her.

“Is he coming for another visit?” A look of excitement crossed over Sansa’s face.

“What? Who?” Brienne stammered over her words. “Oh…no. What makes you –”

“Brienne, even your father suspects something. But I always tell him he must be imagining things, that there couldn’t possibly anything going on between you and the Kingslayer, I mean...Jaime Lannister.”

“Sansa, I actually have some rather serious news. I thought you might want to know first.”

Sansa’s smile changed quickly into a somber expression. She looked as though she was bracing herself for the worst. “Something with my family? My brothers? Arya?”

“No, dear. I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s Balon Greyjoy, Theon’s father. He passed away. Natural causes, the old scoundrel. Yara sent word to the various houses declaring her claim over Pyke. Perhaps you can break the news to Theon?”

Sansa nodded robotically as she thought back to the first time she heard Theon speak of his father. It was a few days after he arrived at Winterfell as a boy. Robb was boasting about what a great man their father Ned was, skilled in battle and a master hunter. Theon, forever prideful, scoffed at Robb and told him all about Balon Greyjoy and his great fleet of ironborn warriors, unwilling to accept defeat at any cost. But the irony was, of course, that Balon had handed his son over to Eddard. Robb wasn’t cruel enough to remind Theon in the moment, and Sansa always marveled at the way Theon looked up to his father. Not anymore, but still, he would want to pay his respects somehow.

“Yes, I’ll tell him. Thank you, Brienne.”

“I hope I haven’t ruined your day with Lanny.”

“No, no. I’m just remembering what it’s like to lose a parent – especially one you didn’t get to say goodbye to.”

Brienne reached out and placed her hands of top of Sansa’s. “Thank gods he has you.”


	20. In Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon is upset about the passing of his father, and he takes it out on Sansa.

"You can’t sleep either?” Sansa stepped out of the shadows of the garden. Theon was sitting quietly on a bench.

“How did you know I was here?” He made room for her to sit down.

“I’ve followed you before. You know I don’t sleep very soundly, and you’re not the quietest person when you get up.” She leaned over and rested her cheek against his shoulder.

“Are you thinking about your father? I’m so sorry about his passing. If you ever want to talk about it…”

The day before, Sansa had pulled Theon aside to tell him the news, and he didn’t have much of a reaction. She wondered if in some ways, Balon Greyjoy was already dead to him.

“Not really. I’m thinking more about my sister.” Theon sighed and gazed off into the darkness. Sansa wondered if Theon was considering a trip to Pyke.

“I know that Yara’s managing, like she always does, but what if she needs me?”

“She wouldn’t be the only one.” Sansa felt guilty for saying it aloud, right on the heels of Theon opening up about his sister.

“Then I hope you’ll come with me.”

And there, he had said it. He wanted to leave Tarth and go home. Or what used to be home.

Sansa hesitated. “Theon…do you think I’m a coward for wanting to stay here?”

Theon didn’t expect Sansa to leap with joy about the idea of sailing to Pyke. He leaned back and pulled her close to him, kissing the top of her head. “Never. You’ve never been a coward, not a day in your life. But look at me…those things I did. A boy and his foolish pride. I thought I paid for my crimes, but when it comes right down to it, I still ran away. And I’ve been hiding here.”

“You’ve been protecting me…and the children.”

“If you want to call it that.”

“Well, you’re wrong about me. I was a coward. I could have stood up for myself any number of times. I could have fought back. I was ready to die the day we leapt from the wall.”

“You were still brave.”

“And you haven’t been? Rebuilding your life?”

“I’ve spent most of my life trying to live into some ideal version of myself. I so badly wanted my father to approve of me. And then there was a time when I wanted to be a Stark. Your father treated me better than anyone else in his position would have. And your brothers too.”

Tears welled up in Sansa’s eyes. She wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

“And you know the rest. I was lost, and then a broken man, less than a man, at that. I didn’t know what happiness was or if I ever had it to begin with...until you, us…and Lanny and Ned. But I’m tired of hiding from the past. I want our children to know that they come from noble families, strong families. Yours and mine. My father may have been a piece of shit, but my sister…there’s no one better in the world. And I want to give them my name and recognize them. But then I wonder if I’m being a fraud again or prideful, wanting to stake claim to something that isn’t mine.”

Sansa opened her mouth in shock. “They’re every bit of yours. Do you think I would deny you as their father, or try to take them away from you?”

“No, but I’d understand if you didn’t want to risk their future by coming with me.”

“Well, at least give me a chance to consider it.”

“Everything is fragile, fleeting. I knew my father wouldn’t live forever, but something about his death – I just have a feeling that now’s the time for us to go back.”

“I understand...but can we at least wait until after their next name day celebration?”

“Alright...but you should know that I’ve sent a raven to Pyke.”

“You what?”

“Brienne helped me this morning. Don’t worry, it was a very cryptic message. But my sister will understand. Brienne wrote it as a condolence, but she included a story that my father used to tell us about the Drowned God. He made it up himself, so Yara will know the message is from me.”

Sansa stood up abruptly, a rage building inside of her. “You can’t do things like that without telling me first. I thought we were in this together. Why are you doubting yourself…and me? What’s gotten into you?”

“Don’t you mean _who_? My rotten father, of course. You can’t understand. How could you ever know? You were loved and wanted…”

“Theon…”

But he was already walking away from her, following the path to the edge of the woods and disappearing into the dark. It would be the first time in years that the two of them had really argued and the first time that Sansa slept without Theon Greyjoy by her side. And she was miserable without him.    


	21. Conspiring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay pleads his case to Cersei. She's intrigued.

Before he realized what was happening, Ramsay was plucked from the street corner and shoved into the royal carriage. He barely had time to adjust to his surroundings when the Queen Mother spat words at him. “Make it quick. This better be worth my time, or I’ll have you thrown in the dungeons.”

His eyes darted around the small enclosed space, and there was Cersei Lannister just a few feet away from him, seated on embroidered pillows, her arms crossed over her bosom with a massive scowl on her face. Ramsay realized that someone was staring at him through the lattice of the carriage. More than likely, it was Gregor Clegane. He could feel the hot breath of the Queen Mother’s most faithful guard upon him.

“Well? Get on with it! What is this nonsense about Sansa Stark being alive? I thought you drove her to suicide at Winterfell. I told Baelish to bring me her head. Without it, I never could be sure she was dead.”

“I, well…yes, your grace…if I could just explain…” In all of his life, Ramsay had never been rendered speechless by a woman, but he had always wondered if Cersei Lannister had a pair of balls underneath her fine folds of silk. She’d certainly maintained some semblance of power longer than anyone could have imagined.

“You’re quite the articulate one. The Bolton Bastard. You and your father are lucky to be alive. Baelish made me believe that your marriage to Sansa was a union conceived by your turncoat father. I should have known that Petyr was behind it. Your lot isn’t intelligent enough to come up with something like that. It didn’t work anyway. The North is as splintered as ever. So what is this? Your last ploy for support? Or is Baelish behind this?"

“No...your grace. As far as everyone else is concerned, Sansa is as dead as the rest of the Starks. But we never found a body. We think she survived the jump from the wall, and I now have a credible lead as to where she is in hiding. I knew you would be as interested in locating Sansa, just as I have been these past few years.”

“Even if I did believe you, which I don’t yet, why do you want to find her so desperately?”

“I have my reasons, your grace. Most of them are related to reclaiming property that is mine.”

“And the ashes in her tomb?”

“A nobody. Someone with a more noble resting place than they deserved.”

Cersei stared back at Ramsay, sizing him up, a look of disgust and disdain frozen into her expression. “So where is that treacherous little bitch hiding?”

Ramsay hesitated but not for too long. “I believe that Brienne of Tarth somehow found her and offered her refuge in the Sapphire Isle.”

Cersei gritted her teeth and then let out a scream. “You mean to tell me, that my Joffrey, our king, lies dead in the darkness and gone, while that useless, wicked cunt lives and breathes in a sunny paradise!?!”

“That is my strong suspicion.”

“And that boorish brute of a woman has been protecting her this whole time!?!?”

“Brienne has some sick loyalty to the Stark family.”

Cersei grew quiet and pensive. “I suppose it is worth investigating if you are convinced.”

“I’ve searched all of Westeros. This is the only place she could be.”

“Fine. You can have a hundred men. Selwyn Tarth has a loyal army, but they won’t have time to assemble if you move quickly. Evenfall has never been well guarded.”

“Thank you, your grace. I have ten of my own men that will assist. Can you provide a vessel?”

“You’ll leave in the morning. Come to the main port with your men before sunrise. My brother Jamie returns from Casterly Rock tomorrow, and he has some twisted and bizarre fixation on Brienne the Beauty. We’ll keep this quiet. I’ll have King Tommen sign a royal decree for the capture of Sansa Stark, traitor to the Crown. And you’d really be doing me a favor if you'd put a knife in that Tarth beast. She’s no use to anyone. Sansa or no Sansa, get rid of her.”

“Yes, your grace. As you command.” Ramsay nodded as a sneer began to spread across his face. He imagined what it was going to feel like to take them all by surprise and to have Reek back in his possession again. Oh, the plans he had for his beloved Reek.

Cersei knocked on the wall of the carriage. Ramsay was again caught off guard when a large pair of hands reached inside, pulling him out and depositing him on the side of the street.


	22. Blindside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their day of reckoning has arrived...

**EVENFALL HALL**

She wasn't as old as most of the castles in Westeros, but she was just as regal. Evenfall Hall was certainly a child's paradise, and adults also found her massive structures impressive. Standing in the main entrance, one would first notice the beautiful courtyard with an intricately placed stone floor and several wishing ponds filled with multi-colored fish. On the right side of the first floor, there was a large open space with small windows along the outer wall and a view of the gardens. This is where Brienne’s father held a party for her many years ago, and she met a number of young suitors, including Renly Baratheon, who was the only boy who would dance with her. And now this was where she practiced sparring on rainy days.

The main hall occupied the left side of the first floor and was used for meal time and for congregating by the fire place. There were three other floors that overlooked the main courtyard, each with long corridors and railings that went all the way around in a rectangular "u" shape. But most impressive about Evenfall were the gigantic stone columns that led to a highly arched ceiling. And in the center was a large opening in the shape of a sunburst.

The castle was named for her structural symmetry, but Lord Selwyn also liked to tell the story of his father dropping known traitors from the railings of the highest floor and watching their heads crack open in the courtyard below. Sansa used to worry about the children climbing on the railings or leaping from the second story into the wishing ponds. But they were sensible enough not to try anything like that. Besides, there were plenty of trees for climbing on the grounds, and they earned most of their scrapes and bruises when they were out with their father or Brienne.

Evenfall was the only home that Ned and Lanny had ever known, yet they were still young enough to make new memories somewhere else. It had been decided that the Greyjoy family would leave for Pyke within a fortnight. They would be missed dearly by everyone in the household. The servants would often remark on how much more alive Evenfall had seemed with the sound of children’s laughter bouncing off of the walls.

**RAMSAY**

He waited and watched. Most of the soldiers from King's Landing were back at the docks, awaiting his signal. Ramsay had decided to approach Evenfall at dusk with twenty men, including five of his own.

He counted two Tarth guards on watch and motioned for one of his men to shoot them down. Done. He watched gleefully as one of the Tarth guards slumped over against his stone post and the other plummeted to the ground. The thump of the body was barely audible as his fall was broken by some low-growing shrubbery. Like taking candy from a baby.

Ramsay wasn’t sure what awaited him on the inside of Evenfall Hall, but he was sure that he and his crew were not expected. He felt a burning sensation in his stomach that slowly descended to his nether regions, and he grinned widely, knowing that he was that much closer to recovering what was rightfully his.

**BRIENNE**

Brienne was partaking in a light breakfast with her father and Sansa. Everyone was fairly quiet. The mood in the castle had been somber since word spread of the family’s plan to leave Tarth. Sansa had agreed to go with Theon for the sake of their children, and Brienne was torn about whether she should accompany them.

Perhaps she was distracted with these thoughts, but looking back on the events of that day, Brienne was severely disappointed in herself for not realizing that something was amiss. She should have picked up on the warning signs. First, Brienne wasn’t sure if she had been awoken by the sound of the children playing in the library or the tolling of the Tarth bell that was customary every morning with the sunrise. As best as she could recall, there had been no bell, which should have told her something was wrong with the watch guards. Second, when one of the servants came to notify her about a visit from the Crown, she should have realized the potential for danger as Jaime wasn’t due to visit for another couple of days. And lastly, she should have wondered why Podrick wasn’t standing near the entrance door, breathless and smiling because he had run from the docks to tell her about a certain someone’s arrival.

As she stood in the entrance of the castle, ready to formally greet her visitor, Brienne noticed that there were a few more guards than usual. And the man standing in the middle of them was definitely not Jaime. He was shorter, and she could see a pair of icy cold blue eyes through the opening in his helmet, instead of Jaime’s enchanting green eyes.

Before Brienne could draw her sword or even let out a warning cry, three men were on top of her, one muffling her screams with his hand. She was thrashing around, nearly ready to break free when Ramsay knocked her on the back of her head with the blunt end of his dagger. She sunk to the floor.

"Lady Brienne, I presume. Yes, we would like to come in. How kind of you to offer.” Ramsay turned to one of his men. “Bind her hands and ankles. She's one clever bitch, so I've been told."

A moment later, Lord Selwyn emerged from the main hall to greet who he assumed to be Jaime Lannister. When he stepped outside and saw Brienne slumped over on the ground and surrounded by strange-looking men, he started to open his mouth to yell for help. But Ramsay was quick to slide his dagger menacingly in front of Brienne's throat while motioning for Lord Selwyn to remain silent. His men began to surround Lord Selwyn and then dragged him over to where Ramsay was standing.

"Where are they?" Ramsay spoke in a low voice.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"I have orders from the Crown, and I can spare you and your treacherous daughter, but you must tell me now...where the fuck are they?" Ramsay pushed the blade of the knife slowly into Brienne's neck.

"I – I don't know...who you're looking for." Lord Selwyn was speaking loudly, perhaps in an attempt to warn someone in the direction where he had just come.

"Try again, old man. And be quick!" Ramsay jerked Brienne's head back, digging the knife further into her pale skin as blood began to drip from the small cut.

"Wait...wait!” Lord Selwyn lowered his head in shame. “I don't know exactly where they are, but they must be somewhere in the castle."

"That's better. I'll need you to maintain order if you'd like your daughter to retain her great…beauty.” Ramsay scoffed. “I'll flay her otherwise – from head to toe. It’ll take me quite awhile, but I’ll do it."

Lord Selwyn began weeping quietly, but he nodded. If this man was talking about flaying, he had to be Ramsay Bolton. Lord Selwyn began to bemoan the fact that they had all become too careless, too oblivious to the possibility of his coming.

"Send word to all of your servants and guards that we are here to extract a pair of fugitives and if everyone cooperates, no harm will come to Evenfall."

Ramsay began walking towards the main hall as he whispered orders to his men. "Tie him up and bring both of them into the courtyard. I need a handful of you to follow me. Send the signal. I want this place surrounded on the outside and scoured from the inside. Capture the servants and slay the guards. We won’t leave here until I have Sansa and Reek in my possession."

**SANSA**

Sansa was thinking about how much she would miss meals with Brienne and Lord Selwyn. In spite of this sadness, Sansa smiled to herself as she was happy for Brienne and her blossoming romance. Brienne had practically skipped away from the table to greet her guest, and Lord Selwyn had just excused himself to get a glimpse of his daughter with Jaime.

Upon exiting the room, he turned to wink at Sansa and then closed the large wooden door behind him. They had always agreed to remain out of sight whenever there were visitors in the castle. Sansa would leave momentarily and retire to her room until told otherwise, but she was enjoying a few minutes to herself as Theon was with the children, probably reading them a story or carving wooden animals. Sometime that day, he was supposed to break the news to them about leaving Tarth.

So when the door to the main hall opened abruptly, Sansa thought to hide herself under the table. Maybe Brienne had assumed she would be gone already and wanted to visit with Jaime inside the castle instead of in the gardens. She was distracted with these thoughts for only a second as her eyes opened wide at the person on the other side of the door. It was if she was locked in his gaze, frozen by the horror of seeing Ramsay in the flesh, only a few feet away from her. He had only lived as a shadow in her dreams for the past few years.

She tried to cry out but was speechless, and she backed away from the table, tipping over her chair.

“My wife!” Ramsay stretched his arms out in a mocking gesture as he moved quickly towards her.

Remembering that she always swore to defend herself against Ramsay should this day ever come, Sansa lunged towards the table. She grabbed knives and dishes and anything she could get her hands on, hurling them in Ramsay’s direction.

He laughed at her as most of the items fell against the wall. Sansa darted towards the stairs and made her way to the second floor, calling out to Theon and anyone else who would help her. Ramsay caught up to her as she was half way up the stairs to the third floor. He grabbed her hair and jerked her backwards. She lost her footing and screamed as she fell down a few stairs, although Ramsay kept a tight grip on her hair and dragged her behind him. Sansa twisted and kicked and tried to free herself with every fiber of her being. But then one of Ramsay’s men caught up to them and grabbed her legs. Sansa continued to arch her back in defiance.

As they reached the third floor of the castle, Ramsay was out of breath, but he still managed a few jeering words. “My pet. I don’t remember you having this much fight in you. Our marriage would have been much more exciting had you been a bit more like this in the sack.” He grabbed her face and pushed his lips on top of her mouth. Sansa bit down as hard as she could.

“Stupid bitch!” Ramsay mumbled as he kneed her in the stomach and then pounded her head. She released her jaw, dropping to the floor and sobbing in pain and despair. All she could think about were the children. Where were they? She didn’t care what happened to her, but she didn’t want this animal to find them.

She slowly crawled backwards towards the railing. “What do you want?”

“I think you know. All good things come to those who wait.”

**THEON**

He had just finished reading a story to Lanny, and she was asking for another. Ned had grown bored a while ago and told them he was going downstairs to play with his boats in the wishing ponds. Theon thought he heard Sansa calling his name, so he stopped to listen.

"Reek!!!"

That voice. Why was it pulsing through his mind after all these years?

"Reek!!!"

Theon froze. No, he wasn't imaging things. That name echoed around the walls of Evenfall. It was a word that Theon had almost erased from his memory. He hoped to never hear it again, but now he knew they were in trouble, and Sansa was in trouble. All of a sudden, Theon was back in Winterfell, laying on the ground of the kennel, hearing Ramsay call his name and nearly pissing himself for fear of what he had done wrong. He heard a whimpering – was it one of the hounds? No, it was Lanny.

"What's happening, father?" A look of terror spread across her face as she could hear her mother's muffled screams. 

Theon pulled Lanny close to him, as if to shield her from a fierce wind. He gulped but willed himself to put on a brave front. "Lanny, the bad man is here. Go and hide like we talked about, and don't come out until you hear a friendly voice or a very long silence." He hugged her tighter and didn't want to let go, but he knew he had to.

"What about Ned?"

"He'll know to hide. Lanny, everything will be alright. I promise."

She tugged on his sleeve until he bent down to her level. She was trying to hold back tears. "Please help mother. Don't let him hurt her."

Theon nodded and squeezed her again before watching her climb underneath a shelf of books and push her way through to a secret alcove. The realization that he might not see his daughter again hit him like a swift kick in the gut. But that voice again, coupled with Sansa’s cries, brought him back to reality.

"Reek!!!!! Show your face, you coward!"

Theon quickly made his way outside the library door, and Ramsay spotted him immediately from across the way.

"There you are, Reek. It's been too long." Ramsay had a dagger at Sansa's throat, and he had bent her over the railing as one of his men began to bind her hands and feet.

Theon drew his sword and would have hurled it in Ramsay's direction had he not been suddenly confronted by two Lannister guardsmen. He stabbed one quickly in the shoulder as the other backed him against the wall. The steel of their swords clanged, but Theon wouldn't back down, pushing back against the guard until he had the upper hand.

"Reek...you're not listening very well these days are you?" Ramsay started to lift Sansa over the railing. "Drop your fucking sword. Now! Or she goes splat."

Theon's eyes met Sansa's, and they were full of dread. She was shaking her head at him as if to tell him to keep fighting, even if it meant she had to die. Theon cursed aloud. Where was Brienne, and how the hell had Ramsay been able to waltz into Evenfall with no warning to the rest of Tarth? His mind was racing with what to do next, but he could never in a million years be responsible for Sansa plummeting to her death.

He dropped his sword and raised his hands in surrender as the guard punched him the stomach and pushed him to the ground, digging his knee into Theon's back as he searched his clothing for any other weapons.

"Clean!"

"Good. Bring him down to the courtyard." Ramsay lifted Sansa back over the railing and shoved her into the floor, running his boot along the outline of her tear-stained cheek.

"We'll have a show for these fine folks of Evenfall before we head back to King's Landing. Reunited with my two long lost friends. What a day!"


	23. Flesh and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay doesn't understand why he can't control Theon anymore...and some other pivotal stuff.

Brienne slowly raised her head and dizzily took in her surroundings. There was a man standing in the middle of the courtyard, waving his arms in the air and making what appeared to be some grand proclamation. A few guards were standing near him, and the servants of Evenfall were scattered around the courtyard, looking frightened and confused. Brienne stared in horror at Sansa and Theon lying on the floor in front of the man, who she deduced was Ramsay Bolton. Where were the twins? And Pod? She began wriggling in her seat, trying to rise up, but she was tied to the chair and unable to cry out because of the gag tied around her mouth.

Brienne looked over to her left and saw that her father was in the same predicament. He seemed relieved that she had regained consciousness, but he also had a guilty and shameful expression. None of this was his fault – Brienne blamed herself.

Ramsay noticed that Brienne was waking up, and he strode over to her chair. “How nice of you to join us, m’lady. You’re just in time.”

And then he turned back to the courtyard. “Good people of Evenfall. The Crown will bring a trial against your noble-born for aiding and abetting these fugitives. And now you will all bear witness to the first of many punishments that await these traitors.”

He walked back over to Sansa and Theon. “Confess before these people your crimes of murder and deceit.” Ramsay instructed his men to pull them up and loosen their gags.

“What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Theon looked away defiantly, but Sansa took the opportunity to plead with the bystanders. “Liar! He’s a liar! He’ll harm us all if you let him. Please –”

Ramsay slapped her hard enough that she collapsed to the ground, and Theon lunged towards Ramsay in her defense, but he was helpless with his hands and feet tied together. Ramsay pushed him back to the ground with ease and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Reek, how your loyalties have changed. Your re-assimilation will probably take longer than the first time.” He kicked Theon in the face, and Theon grunted as blood oozed from his nose and mouth. Ramsay’s men roughly placed the gags back on Sansa and Theon.

"These traitors will each receive six lashes for the six years they have evaded the Crown and then twenty more because I feel like it.” Ramsay pulled a whip from his belt, running the leather between his fingers as a sadistic smile spread across his face.

“Sansa will be first. Reek, you’ll help. Get every stitch of clothing off of her, and be quick about it. And not to worry, she’ll have a turn to undress you. And then all of Tarth will see you for the man you are…or the man you aren’t, shall we say? Hurry up! Do it!”

Theon refused to look in Ramsay's direction. His head was swimming with possibilities of overpowering his captors. He knew that their chances of escape would substantially decrease if Ramsay managed to get them off the Isle. Theon prayed silently to the gods that the children were hiding safely in the castle and unaware of what was happening. "Reek! We're all waiting. Or have you forgotten how to undress a woman? How much practice have you gotten in lately? I’m sure it’s challenging with only a few fingers."

Theon was unmoved, and Ramsay’s patience was wearing thin. He pulled out a small blade from his pocket and kneeled down to pull off Theon’s shoes and grab ahold of his feet. Theon cringed at the touch of his former tormentor. Ramsay ran the tip of the blade along what was left of Theon’s toes.

“How did you ever manage to make it all the way to Tarth with such mangled toes? Looks like you can afford to lose another one.” Without hesitation, Ramsay began to peel a small portion of skin from one of Theon’s remaining toes. Although muffled by the gag, his screams could be heard throughout Evenfall. He wisted around on the ground like a nearly dead fish.

“Now…make like a good Reek and strip her!" Sansa’s blood ran cold, knowing what this was doing to Theon, and she move towards him as if to encourage Theon to obey Ramsay. She just wanted this torture session to be over with as she knew that this was the first of many humiliations and abuses that awaited the both of them. And unless they could figure a way out of this, she would still have to face the Queen Mother.

One of the guardsmen spoke up. "Beg your pardon, Lord Ramsay, but there's a crowd gathering outside. Might it be best if we leave now with the prisoners?"

"Why, yes. And perhaps without any more interruptions, I can finish what I started." Ramsay picked up a chair and threw it in the direction of the guard. It was a wild throw, and it missed the guard by more than a foot. The other guards began to murmur at the sight of Ramsay’s tantrum.

"Quiet! Reek, it looks like I’m going to have to start peeling your friend here." Ramsay grabbed Sansa by the neck and flung her in front of Theon. He held out his blade in a threatening motion.

Theon moved slowly and reluctantly to his knees so that his hands, although bound together, grazed Sansa's cheeks gently. He looked into her eyes, searching them for an answer or some kind of hope. Suddenly, her eyes widened as if she was trying to tell him something. Theon turned around and saw Ned out of the corner of his eye, running angrily towards Ramsay. He must have been hiding nearby. Ned began pummeling Ramsay's thigh with his small fists and yelling at him to stop. Ramsay looked down at the small boy with disgust.

"Look, Reek! You've always got a woman or a child defending you. Should we burn this little one too, and add him to your collection?" Ramsay didn’t wait for a response and lifted Ned up by his shirt, staring him down. "Maybe I'll give you the first lashes."

He dropped Ned to the ground and began cracking his whip into the air. Theon and Sansa tried to throw themselves on top of Ned, but Ramsay ordered his men to restrain them. Brienne and Lord Selwyn continued to struggle in their chairs as the servants looked away in shame and helplessness, unsure of how to stop this madman.

"So eager to protect this scamp? What is he to you, anyway?"

Ramsay struck Ned on his back with the whip and cackled as Ned cried out in pain. “You’ll have a story to tell one day, boy!”

Ramsay lifted the whip to deliver another blow, but a whooshing sound stopped him in his tracks.

Actually, it was an arrow that came swooping down from the third floor that stopped him, and it landed deep in his right eye. Ned grimaced for another lashing, but it never came. He looked over his shoulder to see Ramsay stumbling backwards and falling to the ground, frantically pulling at the arrow protruding from his eye socket. Ned scrambled over to his mother and father. The three of them looked upwards and spotted a head of dark brown hair moving along the railing. They knew right away that Lanny was the one who had taken down Ramsay.

Ramsay’s men went quickly to his side and began to look at each other.

“Do we take it out?

“I don’t know. Could make things worse.”

Ramsay was having a mild seizure on the floor while his thugs were debating what to do next.

“Get…whoever…did…this!”

His men ascended the steps as Ramsay writhed around on the ground. The remaining guards in the courtyard became distracted by a growing noise from the crowd outside of Evenfall. And there was a distinct voice that could be heard – that of Podrick Payne, who was returning home after a night in the local brothel. He was extremely concerned about the large number of Lannister guards outside of the castle walls and demanded to see Brienne or Lord Selwyn.

No one noticed Ned sliding over to where Ramsay had dropped his dagger, retrieving it, and handing it over to Theon. And no one but the servants of Evenfall noticed that Brienne had nearly freed herself from the chair.

Almost in unison, Theon and Brienne leapt into action. They quickly disarmed a few nearby guards and began to fight them off. Some of the servants ran to safety while others began to hurl large items at the remaining guards. Amidst the chaos, Sansa had crawled over to Ramsay. She looked upon him with deep hatred as memories of her time with him at Winterfell flashed through her mind. She began to plunge the dagger into his side repeatedly, causing him to writhe around even more violently as he screamed in pain. He swatted at her, cursing, but she moved behind him and spoke loud enough for him to hear.

“It was your daughter who shot the arrow. A little girl. She’ll never know it was her birth father she took down – only that she ended the reign of a cruel bastard. Her true father is Theon Greyjoy. Theon…Greyjoy.”

“You…bitch…what are you –”

“And that boy you were whipping…he’s your son. You do remember our wedding night and the days that followed? I guess the Bolton seed is strong. Twins! But they’ll never know about you. And we’ll take back what is ours. You’ll be dust. Forgotten.”

She spat at him, and continued plunging the knife into his abdomen. All of the anger she had held towards those who had betrayed her family came pulsating through that dagger. Her hands were now covered in blood, and as Theon was able to move closer to them, he noticed that Ned was watching the scene with a horrified look. Theon managed to pull her away from Ramsay. Sansa broke free from the trance she was in and turned to usher Ned to a safer place, hoping to find Lanny too.

Theon stood over a barely breathing Ramsay. “Ramsay Bolton. He met his end at the hands of a child and a woman and a freak. Any last words?”

“Reek.” Ramsay was slipping away, but the bitterness poured from his mouth. “You…fucking coward. I gave your…pathetic life meaning…didn’t I? You –”

Theon quickly passed Ramsay’s dagger across his throat as bright red blood poured onto the stones beneath him. It was a swifter death than he deserved, but the deed was done, and Ramsay wouldn’t be around to harm them any longer. A small part of Theon died with him, but it was an unwanted part that he was happy to be rid of.

Now Theon had to make sure his family was safe and help Brienne secure the castle. He would give his life to keep Sansa out of Cersei Lannister’s clutches. But he wouldn’t have to do much more. A voice began to settle the crowd outside of Evenfall as well as most of the guards inside.

It was Jaime Lannister.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew I wanted to write a story where Ramsay suffers at the hands of his own offspring. Seems like the ultimate revenge for such a wicked man. I hope you enjoy it.


	24. When the Dust Settles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime helps take out the garbage, and he and Brienne talk about the future.

“All the guards from King's Landing are accounted for – the ones you haven’t slaughtered, anyway.” Jaime had just finished assessing the damage and was pacing back and forth.

Brienne shot him a piercing glance, although she knew he was just being his usual charming self. And Jaime knew she was happy to see him, although maybe a little miffed that he had stolen her thunder and saved the day.

"They'd all be dead by now, but you had to make your grand entrance." Brienne rolled her eyes, but then her expression softened. Jaime noticed a brief smile pass over her lips before she refocused on the issue at hand. "So it’s just the Bolton scum left. We have to find them."

Sansa stood nervously in the main corridor with Theon in front of her, as if he was guarding her from an unexpected attack. "We must hurry. Lanny’s still missing.” They were each holding one of Ned's hands as he whimpered softly.

Brienne spoke to Sansa in a reassuring tone. “She’ll know to stay out of sight.”

“Let me go and find her.” Sansa tried to push past Theon, and a Lannister guard approached them.

“Ser Jaime – we can’t let that one get away. King Tommen decreed that she be returned to King’s Landing to stand trial.”

“Let me see the declaration. Now!” 

The guard stepped forward with a sealed document and handed it to Jaime. He ripped it open. “Yes, just as I suspected. Forged. Looks like the handy work of the Queen Mother."

Jaime proceeded to tear the paper into pieces. "Listen...all of you! This is no longer a quest to bring Sansa Stark back to King’s Landing. You are now charged with ridding Tarth of the Bolton intruders. Search the castle until you find them. How many men were traveling with that derelict?”

One of the guards spoke up. “It was ten, plus him.” He nodded in the direction of Ramsay's corpse.

“Good. Then it's only a few that we have left to capture. Greyjoy, you're coming with me. Lord Selwyn, please do me the honor as well. Sansa, stay here with the boy.”

Theon squeezed Sansa's hand and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Don’t worry, we'll find her.”

He took a moment to hug a still very shaken-up Ned. “I'll bring Lanny back to you.” Ned seemed to brighten at this notion before he turned to bury his head into his mother's side. 

Brienne straightened her belt and sheath, gearing up for a fight. “Ser Jaime, I’ll accompany you.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Please stay here with Sansa. And may I borrow that?”

Jaime pointed to Oathkeeper, and Brienne gave him a bewildered look, grudgingly handing the sword over to him. She started to protest Jaime's orders, but Sansa nudged her arm. "Brienne, let them go."

"But this is _my_ home. I should kill those bloody bastards myself."

"Stay here with us, please." And then Brienne found herself not so worried about proving her worth and taking down the enemy but more about comforting her friend with some kind words. "It's almost over, Sansa. And he’s gone forever."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Theon quickly determined that Lanny was hiding underneath one of the beds in the servants’ quarters. It was a favorite spot of hers when they played hide-and-seek. He gently coaxed her out and held her close, relieved that she was unharmed. She was trembling and on the verge of tears, so Theon tried to comfort her with soothing words. “You saved us, Lanny. You did the right thing.”

And it wasn't long before some of the guards noticed smoke coming from the library. Ramsay's men had started a fire and then planned to escape through the windows, not thinking about the fact that they were three stories from the ground. Even if they had attempted to jump or scale down the walls, there was an unfriendly mob below. Lord Selwyn and Jaime simply waited until they tried to exit the library and skewered them like kabobs.

Jamie accompanied the Lannister guards back to their ship, along with a pair of Ramsay's remaining men shackled together. After interrogating them with threats of flaying, Jaime learned of Ramsay's plans to burn everyone alive in Evenfall, save for Sansa and Theon, who were to be returned to King's Landing and Winterfell, respectively. And Ramsay had something especially heinous in mind for Brienne, per the request of Cersei. Thank gods Jaime had shortened his stay in Casterly Rock and bypassed a visit with his dear sister in King's Landing, arriving in time to diffuse the chaotic situation. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Theon and Sansa spent the rest of the day in their room with the children, reassuring them that the worst had passed and showering them with praise for being so brave. Maester Amos later gave Ned and Lanny something to help them sleep and advised their parents that the trauma would eventually become a distant memory.

Jaime helped Brienne and others gather and bury the dead. Many mourned for the Tarth guards who had been killed in the siege upon the castle. Lord Selwyn was exhausted from the day’s events, but he went to grieve with the families.

Night had fallen, and after checking on Sansa and family, Brienne joined Jaime in the main hall, where he was resting on some pillows in front of the fire place.

“Are you sure you want to sleep down here?” Brienne lowered herself to the ground next to him, and rested her back on a nearby pillow. They locked eyes. She was grateful for all Jaime had done, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

He reached for her hands and closed his fingers around them. “I’ll be fine. No need to go to any trouble for me.”

“Maybe I should stay here too.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “And what would your father say?”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s happened today.”

“That’s true. Ramsay was going to kill you. Actually worse...he was going to have his way with you and then kill you.”

“Are you trying to frighten me?”

“No…I just…I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you…”

Brienne moved so that her head was now resting in the curve of Jaime’s arm. He moved his hand to stroke her cheek, tracing his finger along her brow and then twirling a lock of her golden hair.

She closed her eyes and imagined how she should have greeted Ramsay at the door – with a spear through his belly. “He would have _tried_ to kill me. Lanny took care of him though. We taught her well. ”

Jaime nodded. He thought of his own daughter briefly and what a strong, young woman she had become before her untimely death. He wondered for a moment what kind of mother Brienne would be. She certainly had become fond of Sansa’s children.

“Jaime…will you help us in the morning with…the body?”

“What are the plans?”

“I left the decision up to Sansa and Theon. Burial at sea.”

“Better than he deserves. I would have put him in the center of town, and let the buzzards take care of his rotting flesh.”

“They thought about sending his remains back to the North, but it seems unwise to goad Roose Bolton, or to give him any insight about what happened to his precious son.”

“Roose has priorities even greater than mourning the loss of his bastard.”

“Oh?”

“Yara Greyjoy. Along with a number of other Northern houses and wildlings – they’re set to take a good portion of the North. The only hold-out will be Petyr Baelish. He’d rather rot behind the Bloody Gates than come out and make a stand.”

“And what do the Lannisters think about that?

“It’s a kingdom divided. And when the troops come South, we’ll have another war on our hands.”

“And the white walkers?”

“They seem to have gone dormant for now…if they ever were actually reawakened. No one up my way really seems to know.”

“And when will you head back to King’s Landing?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, I think. There’s something that I need to give my sister.”

Brienne’s heart sank, and she couldn’t hide the disappointment in her expression. Jaime leaned in to kiss her, and when she tried to rise up to leave him, he pulled her back into his arms.

“Not to worry, Brienne of Tarth. I’ll be back before you even realize I’m gone.”


	25. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's so hard to say goodbye...

Jaime arrived in King’s Landing within a weeks time, having guided both of the Lannister ships back to port. He dismissed the crew that had been sent to accompany Ramsay, telling the men that he would address the events that transpired in Tarth directly with the King.

Later that evening, Jaime returned to his room within the Red Keep and began gathering a few of his possessions. Cersei burst into the room and marched towards Jaime with a fury in her steps.

“You were due back from Casterly Rock a week ago. Where have you been?” She stopped just inches away from him with her hands clenched at her hips.

“Good to see you, too, Sister.” Jaime barely turned to look at her and continued moving his belongings from a large garish  dresser into a wooden crate.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Cersei moved towards the crate and began shuffling through his belongings, tossing some items onto the floor. Jaime grabbed her wrists and looked into her eyes.

“The meaning, sister dear, is that I am leaving King’s Landing, and I won’t be coming back.” He released her wrists and pushed her away at the same time, returning to what he was doing.

Cersei pulled at the thin gold chain around her neck. She knew from his demeanor that Jaime was serious.

“What are you talking about? This is your home, and you have a duty to fulfill to your king…and your son.”

“Oh, yes…my duty. I’ve spoken with Tommen already, and I’ve renounced my position on the King’s Guard. I’ve not been worth anything since I lost my hand.”

Jaime had spoken with Tommen that morning and asked for his forgiveness for abandoning his position with the King’s Guard. But somehow, Tommen understood and could tell that Jaime would still do what he could to be a part of his life, even from afar.

“What complete and utter nonsense. I was just with Tommen, and he didn’t mention anything to me.”

“There’s a lot of that going around, I’d say. I ran into some friends of yours in Tarth.”

“Tarth? I should have known that you were with that _beast_. So you saw her? She’s not dead.”

Jaime was smug in his reply. “No, she’s not, much to your dismay, I’m sure. And your flaying man-puppet didn’t bring Sansa Stark back either. She’s also alive and well.”

“You bastard!” Cersei lifted a small table and hurled it in Jaime’s direction. It hit him on the back, and Jaime turned to violently grab Cersei before she could flee from the room. He pulled her over to his bed and pushed her down, climbing on top of her and straddling her as he pressed his hands into her shoulders.

“I’d like to leave here with some dignity, you horrid wench. I could do without your melodrama for once.”

Cersei turned her head away from Jaime and stared off into the distance. After a few minutes, she broke the silence.

“You knew.”

“Be more specific. I know a great many things.”

“You knew that Sansa Stark was in Tarth. You didn’t tell me. She murdered our first born child, and you didn’t have the decency to bring her back.”

“We both know Sansa didn’t kill Joffrey. You have a sick obsession with punishing her because you know she’s nothing like you. The Starks are nothing like you, and it frightens you because they’re better people…and you know it.”

“You mean they’re nothing like _us_. Don’t forget your blood…and what our family has built. You’re a lion, Jaime, not a newborn cub suckling at its mother’s teat. Don’t be so weak.”

“You’ve always had a way with words.”

“And don’t tell me that _Brienne the Beauty_ can bring you pleasure the way that I do. She doesn’t know you like I do.” Cersei lifted her lips to meet Jaime’s and moved her hands to pull his body towards her. But he surprised her by moving away and returning to filling his crate. Cersei lay stunned and insulted on the bed.

“So maybe you did finally get through her armor and find her cunt…and now that you fancy her…well, you can toss me to the side.” She sat up abruptly and stared hatefully in his direction.

“Actually, Cersei…I don’t love you anymore.” His stinging words hung in the air. Jaime had to look away because although what he had said was true, a part of him didn’t want to see the devastation he was causing his twin.

Jaime would always admire what Cersei had been able to accomplish. He would always love her in some fashion, perhaps as his kinfolk or the mother of his children. He didn’t even wish any real harm upon her, but he was ready to be free from her control and in some respects, the control of his father from beyond the grave.

And then Jaime noticed a sound that he hadn’t heard in many years – Cersei was weeping softly as she sat on the edge of the bed with her hands covering her face. “You weren’t even going to say good-bye.”

Jaime sighed and picked up a small item that he had set aside for her. He walked over to where she was sitting and ran his hand over her back. She jerked away from his touch, but he still leaned over to kiss her gently on the top of her head.

“No, but I was going to leave something for you.” He placed the small item on her lap.

She wiped a few tears from her eyes and picked up the item, wanting to throw it to the ground and stomp on it. But it was so light weight, she was curious about what was underneath the neatly folded paper. She pulled back the corners of the paper to reveal a soft piece of cloth. It was a thin ivory handkerchief.

“It belonged to our mother. Well, Father had it made from her wedding dress. I found it buried amongst his things after he died. I only knew what it was because I remembered him telling me about her dress and how happy they were when they wed. And after she died, he wanted to be able to carry a piece of her with him. I suppose he would have given it to you eventually.”

Cersei lifted the soft piece of fabric to her face and pressed her nose into it, searching for some scent or reminder of her mother, wanting to connect to the woman who had given her life and had doted on her until she perished giving birth to their creature of a brother, Tyrion.

Jaime reached for her hand, but she stood up to leave and walked away from him as fast as she could. When Cersei reached the door, she turned around to look at Jaime one last time.

“I can see that you’re determined to do this, but you’re making the worst mistake of your life. Just know that we’re finished. Gods, I knew that you were gone a long time ago. She won’t make you happy. Nothing will. You’re doomed, just like I am. And it’s only because of our son that I’m walking away instead of putting a dagger in your heart. Goodbye, Jaime.”

Jaime knew it was best to let her go, but he couldn’t help cringing when he noticed that she had left the handkerchief strewn on the floor. A light breeze blew into the room, and Jaime took a deep breath, taking in the moment when he realized he was finally free.    


	26. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few reflections from our hero and heroine. I love them together. *sigh*

The children skipped ahead, jumping over the waves as they surged over the shore and then retreated. Ned kept looking back towards his mother and father until Lanny challenged him to a race down the beach. Thankfully, they were slowly regaining their innocence.

It helped that they were spending more time outside of Evenfall – exploring the town more than they had been allowed previously. And they loved being on the beach and interacting with other children they encountered. Word had spread that the true identity of the long-term visitors to Tarth were actually Sansa Stark and Theon Greyjoy. The townspeople had decided to embrace them, knowing that they had the support of Lord Selwyn and Brienne.

Theon had reached out again to Yara by raven, no longer fearful that a message would be intercepted. He was moved by her swift reply. _Come home, Little Brother_. He could have filled a book with everything he wanted to tell her, but instead, he kept it simple. _Will be home soon. Bringing my wife and children. With love, Theon._

He had reluctantly promised to wait for Jaime Lannister to return to Tarth to accompany all of them on the long journey to Pyke. It would feel strange to Theon, trusting a Lannister, knowing that Jaime’s loyalty could be tested or that Cersei could possibly send someone after them. Theon would have preferred to leave right away, but he wanted to keep his word. After all, Sansa had forgiven Jaime for everything he put her family through.

The rules of the game were constantly changing, and across all of Westeros, previous unions were now on shaky ground. Enemies had become allies. And even a Stark had fallen for a Greyjoy.

Theon and Sansa continued walking along the shore with their hands linked, letting the water lap against their feet. They made sure the children stayed within view.

“I’m guessing the weather won’t be quite as pleasant as this in Pyke?”

“Not likely. Nor the people.”

“Maybe they’re friendlier now.”

“Probably even less so since Yara has restored their power.”

“ _Your_ power. The power of the ironborn.” Sansa smirked as she said this, but she was actually nervous about how she would be received when they arrived to Pyke.

Theon seemed to be thinking about something entirely different. He stopped walking, and stood still in front of Sansa, watching the curious look spread across her face. He noticed that she had aged slightly since the incident with Ramsay. Her eyes seemed gray and her skin was all the more pale, but still, he saw her beauty shining through. Or maybe it was the luster in her red hair that always reminded him of her strength. He couldn’t resist kissing her soft lips, and he pushed some wayward strands of her long, flowing hair behind her ears, moving his fingers to fumble with her earring.

“Sansa…do you think you would have…used it?” He gently pulled on the earring, and she instinctively moved her hands to both of her ears, remembering that she was only wearing one earring at the moment.

“I don’t know…maybe…if it seemed like there was no escape…or if I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I could never see the children again. Then my life wouldn’t have been worth living.”

The earrings that Theon referenced were a gift he had given to Sansa soon after their arrival to Tarth. It seemed strange to call them a _gift_ since they were actually tiny glass vials with enough wolfsbane to kill a person, should a quick death be needed. Although it was somewhat morbid of him, Theon wanted Sansa to feel like she had control over her own life – or at least some say in her own death, should it come to that. Over the years, neither of them had thought much about the earrings or what they contained until just a few days ago.

Theon reached into his pocket and revealed that he still had the other one. “Thank you for this. I’m not sure I would have used it. Even if I think back to my darkest moments, there was still a reason to hold onto hope…that something good would come after the misery.”

Sansa smiled knowingly at him. She had seen a new kind of courage in Theon the day that Ramsay stormed Evenfall. Although they had been at Ramsay’s mercy, Sansa knew that Theon had not been at all concerned about his well-being but hers and the children’s. He would have suffered until the end of eternity to save them any pain.

“So what do you think? Should we say good-bye to these?” Sansa had removed the other earring and was holding it between her thumb and index finger.

Theon nodded, and they both moved further into the water, drawing their hands back in unison and letting the tiny objects fly as far away as possible.

Sansa then grabbed Theon’s hand and pulled him forward playfully into the water. A wave crashed around them, and they lost their balance, tumbling into the water, but holding onto each other until they could both find their footing.

Theon was shaking his head at Sansa and coughing and laughing at the same time as he planned his revenge, splashing large amounts of water in her direction as she was ringing out her hair. The children noticed that their parents were soaked and ran back to them to join in on the fun.

“Enjoy the water now, everyone. It’ll be too cold in Pyke for much swimming.”

Lanny chimed in. “I’m sure we’ll be too busy exploring and fishing and hunting to notice.”

Sansa patted the children on the head. “And Theon…don’t forget that they are ironborn too. They have salt in their veins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a little while to polish these few chapters. Next up - Theon's homecoming. And what will Yara think about her new sister-in-law?


	27. Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone manages to find a way to pass the time en route to Pyke.

The trip to Pyke was taking longer than expected as the weather was unpredictable. Twice, they had to dock off the coast of Dorne and then pray for smooth sailing ahead. Jaime wasn't sure it would be safe to stop anywhere else, not even near Casterly Rock. Although it was technically his castle to call home, no telling if Cersei had planted someone there to bring him back to King's Landing or get rid of him.  
  
Their ship was cozy with a few cabins for the passengers and room for some cargo. This was to avoid suspicion from other merchants passing by. Pirates were another concern, but the group was prepared to either pay them off with gold from King Selwyn or to fight. Brienne had commanded Podrick to recruit the most valiant and sea-worthy of Tarth's soldiers for the trip.  
  
All of the new sights and sounds were enough of a distraction to keep Lanny and Ned entertained – for a while. Then after days and days of nothing but the gray sea ahead of them, they grew a bit restless. Lanny finally took up sewing with help from her mother, and Ned occupied some of his time with his carvings. Theon sketched a rough version of the Greyjoy sigil so that Ned could carve a kraken figure for Yara.  
  
In the evenings, most everyone would gather on the ship's deck and take turns telling stories of their childhood and sharing memories before the War of the Five Kings. The children were fascinated when Theon and Sansa began to open up more about their lives in Winterfell and Pyke, and they held onto the hope of meeting more of their relatives once they were further North.  
  
Lanny and Ned also wanted to know more about Brienne's mysterious friend, Jaime Lannister, and why their mother and father didn't seem to be particularly fond of him. Realizing that Ser Jaime only had one hand, Lanny, of course, begged to see his “stump” on more than one occasion. Jaime was amused by her constant questions and played along. Besides, it was more pleasant to talk with the children than endure the strained, polite chit chat with their parents. Jaime knew he would stay out of sight when they landed in Pyke. A Lannister, even one who had abandoned his family, was not going to be well received.  
  
Jaime slept most nights on the deck of the ship, and Brienne would often linger there with him until almost morning. She thought about inviting him to stay in her cabin but didn't want to let her feelings for him distract her from her mission to get the Greyjoy family home without incident.  
  
So she was a bit taken aback when she heard a light rapping on her door after everyone had retired for the night. On the other side of the door was Jaime with his mischievous smile and dancing eyes, and she knew what was on his mind.  
  
“Brienne, before you say anything, I left Greyjoy and Pod on the deck to keep watch. They're playing cards.”  
  
“Yes, but what did you tell them?”  
  
“That I wanted to check on you.” Jaime had pushed his way inside her room and closed the door behind him. The air inside the small cabin was heavy with a slight scent of the single burning candle but also a hint of a fragrance that Jaime recognized immediately.  
  
“So you like the perfume I brought you?”  
  
Brienne looked down at her wrists where she had just dabbed a few drops. “Yes, I do. Thank you...but Jaime...you can't stay here.”  
  
“The rules that we hold ourselves to on land don't apply when we're at sea.” He smiled deviously and moved closer to Brienne, gesturing for her to have a seat on the bed.  
  
“Everyone will know what we're doing.”  
  
“They're all asleep. Besides, do you know what being enclosed on a small vessel, day after day, with the woman you love, does to a man?” As he was whispering in her ear, Jaime began to gently massage Brienne's shoulders and neck. He leaned closer to her and moved his lips down her neck, lingering at the nape of her neck and planting gentle kisses along her collarbone. Brienne turned her head to meet his lips.  
  
Jaime began pulling at the tie on the top of her nightgown, but Brienne pushed his hand away. “Jaime, maybe we should wait.”  
  
But he was growing slightly impatient. Besides, she had been dropping not so subtle hints for the past several days as she would find him in a quiet corner of the ship and grab his ass or push him against the wall and press herself into him.  
  
“You don't mean we should wait…until we're married? I thought we talked about that already and agreed that neither of us wanted that right now.”  
  
“No, it's not that at all. I just thought it should be somewhere special. Not in this shit hole of a cabin.”  
  
“It doesn't really matter where we are.” Jaime was now seated next to her and was holding onto one of her hands. “Ah...I know! Foreplay? Or should I say swordplay? You're not hot for me unless you're dominating me with your sword. Is that it?”  
  
Brienne managed only a half-smile. “Jaime...I don't know if...”  
  
“Or nervous about your first time?”

“No.” Brienne hesitated but then decided to confess. “This won't be my first time.”  
  
Jaime was surprised but decided not to pry for the time being. “But m'lady, you led me to believe that your honor was still in tact.”

“Oh, shut up. It's just...I know who you've been with...I'm assuming you don't love her in that way anymore, but how can I measure up to...how can I do the things...she did?”  
  
Jaime pulled Brienne towards him. “You can't do those things in the way she did because you're going to do them your way. There's no comparison. We'll figure it out. We have our whole lives...well, the gods only know how long...all I'm saying is we've waited long enough. There's no one and nothing standing in the way.” Jamie kissed Brienne gently on her forehead. “But I'm not going to force you. You know where to find me if you change your mind.” He rose from the bed and started towards the door.  
  
“Wait..."  
  
Jaime turned around and only hesitated for a second before pushing his body into hers. They tore at each other's clothes – untying, loosening, and unbuttoning. They pulled everything off until they were both naked and panting and rolling around on the bed as their hands and lips and tongues explored every inch of each other.

Then they started to compete over who could pleasure who the most and for how long. Brienne obviously knew more than she gave herself credit for. And finally, after many victories on both sides, they collapsed together on the small bed.

“You see? I knew we’d be just as good together in bed as we were on the Kingsroad.”

“Yes, Jaime. You were right. Just like always.”

Brienne quickly fell asleep with a contented expression on her face. Before drifting off, Jaime leaned up to open the small window of the cabin, letting in the salty air as it mixed with the lingering scent of their bodies pressed together in the throes of passion.


	28. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon is finally home, but Yara could be a little more welcoming.

Just a few miles from Pyke, a ship stopped them to inquire about what business they had in the Iron Islands. Theon addressed the ironborn guards with confidence but not with the same haughty, childish attitude he had carried as a younger man returning home.

“I’m Theon Greyjoy, last surviving son of Balon Greyjoy.” Theon paused and lowered his head. “What is dead may never die.” The soldiers said the words in unison with him.

“I received word that my father passed away, and I let my sister know that I’d be returning home.”

“And where is it that you’ve been? M’lord?”

“Tarth…the Sapphire Isle. I return accompanied by Brienne of Tarth, who offered me a place of refuge after I escaped from the Boltons. And I am joined by my wife and children and a small crew from Tarth.”

“I see.” The one guard turned to the other, and they began to whisper to each other.

“It seems to be him.”

“I 'spose so. Besides, Yara’s been expecting him…and she knew he’d be coming from Tarth.”

“Won’t do no harm to bring 'em in. She’s the only one who'll know for sure.”

“Fine. But let’s board the ship and bring it into port ourselves. We’ll need to inspect it first. Sound the cannon to notify the castle."

Brienne was standing next to Theon, expecting to be mocked but then realizing that the ironborn were perhaps somewhat enlightened when it came to women in armor. She was looking forward to meeting Yara.

“Get everyone on deck, and then we’ll have a look around your ship before we can take you in.”

Theon nodded for the crew to step forward, and he called to Sansa and the children to come up from below deck. Jaime stood amongst the crew with his head lowered, although he doubted that anyone would recognize him.

Lanny and Ned stared at the ironborn guards and their dark gray uniforms and armor, taking in the gray sky all around them. They missed their sunny Tarth and weren’t sure what to make of these strange new people.

One of the guards began to trace his fingers along Sansa’s long red braid. “Is this your rock wife, m'lord? Or your salt wife?” Sansa pulled her braid behind her back as the guard laughed to himself, but Theon was not amused, and he began to draw his sword.

“She's my wife. Show some respect, or I’ll have to teach you some manners.”

The guard continued laughing but drew his hands up in the air. “Yes, m’lord. I wouldn’t want to offend a pretty boy such as yourself.”

Brienne spoke up. “Do your duty and have a look around. We’ve been traveling for some time and would like to take audience with Lady Yara before the sun goes down.”

This made both of the guards howl with laughter. “I can’t wait to see the look on _Lady_ Yara’s face when we bring this lot to her.” They headed towards the steps and motioned for several other guards to keep watch while they looked around. When they returned, the guards commanded some of their crew to board the ship and steer it towards the main dock. “Bring this bitch in!”

As they neared the dock, Theon noticed a large crowd of men, women, and children lined up on either side of the waterfront. He had to admit that this homecoming was better than the one he remembered from several years ago. Granted, no one was cheering his return, but at least they seemed interested.

He was glad to see that the people gathering on the banks seemed spirited, not beaten down or malnourished. Lanny and Ned watched the children running along the dock. Most of them were unkempt, wearing raggedy clothing with dirt smeared across their faces, but Lanny and Ned were relieved to see the children smiling. Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all.    

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Let me have a look at you, Baby Brother. There’s more of you left than I was expecting. I was quite relieved not to have any more shipments of Greyjoy appendages after that first box.”

“Yara, please. The children."

They were all gathered in the main hall. Theon could tell that Yara wanted to maintain some formality between them, particularly in front of her guards. Still, he had been hoping that her first words to him would be kinder.

She continued. “After we took Winterfell, I thought I’d find you still chained up like a feral dog, and following the commands of your master, Ramsay Bolton.”

“I’m sorry about what happened when you came to rescue me. Thank you for inviting me back home.”

“I didn’t invite you. It’s your home too.” Yara paused and looked around. She nodded towards her guards. “Leave us for a moment.”

Theon waited for the guards to exit the room. “Sister, I’d like to introduce you to Brienne of Tarth. She helped us escape from the Boltons and offered us a place to stay.”

Yara turned towards Brienne. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. Will you be staying here with us for a few days?”

“I’m not sure, your grace. It would be nice to have a rest, but my father will be anxious for our return. Perhaps just one night.”

“Very well. And you can call me Yara.”

“Of course. And thank you for your hospitality. I am honored to meet a fine warrior such as yourself.”

“Anything for the woman who saved my brother’s life.”

“And Yara, I’d like to present my wife Sansa and our children, Lanny and Ned…Greyjoy.”

“This is your wife then? Sansa Stark, is it? Presumed dead, but here you are. And your proud offspring.”

Theon didn’t care for Yara’s tone at the moment. She was behaving more like their father than he would have imagined. Cold. Distant. What was on her mind? He wished he knew.

Sansa also sensed that something was off, so she remained motionless and tight-lipped behind the children. When her eyes met Yara’s, she bowed her head slightly as a sign of respect.

But Lanny couldn’t contain her enthusiasm any longer. “Aunt Yara! Look what Ned made for you!” She snatched the wooden figure from her brother’s hand and ran towards Yara, holding out what seemed like a peace offering.

Yara looked down at the girl and managed a half-smile. She patted Lanny on the hand. “You’re named after my mother. Did you know that?” Lanny nodded, still gazing at her with complete admiration.

Yara took Lanny’s hand and walked over to Ned. “This is fine craftsmanship, young man. Did your father teach you?”

Lanny answered for him. “Yes, and he taught us how to shoot a bow and arrow, and he taught us our words on the trip here. _We do not sow._ So, I told my mother I was done with sewing for good!”

Leave it to Lanny to lighten the mood. Everyone in the room laughed a little bit, and let down their guards. Sansa thanked Yara for receiving them, and then Yara went over to her brother and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him close. “What is dead may never die. Indeed. Welcome home, Theon Greyjoy, Prince of Pyke.”


	29. Sibling Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yara and Theon reconnect.

Theon quietly stepped into the room that was once occupied by his older brothers. He stood for a moment, trying to remember the time he had spent there as a boy. He had once longed to be accepted by Rodrik and Maron and maybe even move into their room. But more often than not, Theon was ordered to stay in the room he shared with Yara. He could even recall a few severe beatings when his brothers found him in their room, admiring their belongings.

He looked over to the place where Maron used to sleep, and he noticed the silhouette of his wife, still asleep and resting comfortably. She must have been weary from their travels but also tired after the night they had spent making love.

Several months had passed since they’d had a night alone together. Lanny and Ned were usually curled up between them in their bed on the ship. But the children had wanted to stay in Brienne's room at Pyke, knowing that she would be leaving soon and returning to Tarth...or perhaps finding some new adventure.

They were with her now, having breakfast, and Theon had woken up early to spend some time with Yara. She'd seemed happier to be with him again, confiding in him her plans to take the rest of the North and then head to the capital. And of course she had asked him about Sansa…

“Do you think she can be trusted?”

“Of course. She's my wife.”  

“And the children? Who is their real father?”

“I can't say.”

“You can't? Or you won't?”

“What difference does it make? They're my children now.”

“Not by blood, just by your word. And you'd have those bastards inherit everything Greyjoy one day?”

Theon was fine with Yara being cold-hearted towards him, even Sansa, but he was not going to let her speak ill of Lanny and Ned. “Yara, show some fucking respect and watch what you say about those children! They've wanted to meet you for a long time, and they've just been through hell – seeing their world turned upside down by fucking Ramsay Bolton – and then being drug halfway around Westeros by ship.”

She was unmoved by his outburst. “Sounds like a paradise compared to the way I grew up under our father’s reign. You've sheltered them. They have a long way to go to ever be considered ironborn, if I ever was to consider them.”

Theon grunted in frustration and thought to leave her in this moment. Sometimes there was no getting through to his sister. But he knew she had fought many a battle to get to this place – not just thousands of men but also their father and probably his brothers too. A small part of him could understand why she wouldn’t want to leave her legacy to just anyone. “Well, what about you? No heirs to speak of?”

“Do I look like the kind of woman who has time to be bouncing brats on my knees?”

“No, but if you're so concerned about the Greyjoy lineage...”

“Let's not speak of that right now. I want to hear who struck the fatal blow to defeat Ramsay.”

“Well...to be honest, we all had a hand in that, but it was your _sheltered_ niece who delivered the arrow through his eyeball." Theon paused. "You don’t know how much she reminds me of you.” He placed his hand over this sister’s hand. She gave him a half smile but then turned, moving her hand away.

“Speaking of the Boltons, I have a gift for your lovely bride. Roose Bolton’s rotting head – or what’s left of it. He was such a coward before he took his last breath. And he wouldn’t give up Ramsay, no matter how many times I pushed my blade into his sides. But I guess Ramsay may have already been dead.”

“I don’t know that she’ll want to see it, but I’m sure she won’t spend a minute mourning Roose Bolton.”

“I’m not usually so gruesome, but I wanted a souvenir, seeing as how the Boltons were kind enough to send one to us.” Yara cleared her throat, and Theon looked away uncomfortably.

“So what’s next for you, Theon? Will you continue playing nurse maid to those children?”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do, but I want them protected. Sansa too. And you’ll be kind to her. I want your word.”

“Again with words, Theon? I make no promises, but if it’s something that you love, I will do my best to see that it is protected...that _they_ are protected. Now, go awaken your precious wife. I’d like to speak with her.”

“Later on, Yara. We’ll need to see Brienne off. She’s a good woman – a true knight. I’d ask her to stay and fight with us, but I think she’d like to get back to her father.”

“Fine. I’ll go and say my goodbyes as well. And good luck rousing your beloved. You two put on quite a show last night. I wouldn't have guessed that you still had it in you. Might try to keep it down next time. What would our father say? A Greyjoy bedding a Stark in Pyke. I’m surprised he didn’t rise up from the sea and strike you.”

“Yara…” Theon lowered his head and sighed. In spite of her gruff mannerisms, he had missed her.


	30. Oath Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Sansa part ways.

The clouds cast gray shadows over the water, reflecting the mood of the small group headed towards the docks. Brienne had the twins in tow, each child holding tightly onto one of her hands. It seemed as though Lanny and Ned were walking at a slow pace on purpose, hoping to delay the inevitable - that their lifelong friend, who was more like family, would be leaving them for good.

Theon and Sansa followed behind the trio, also dreading these last moments, Sansa especially. She knew that if she asked Brienne to stay, Brienne would deny her own happiness and future and remain steadfast by her side. But that wouldn't be fair, as much as Sansa would miss her protector and friend.

Equally, Brienne was thinking about Sansa and wondering about leaving her and the children among the ironborn. She hadn't found Yara to be very welcoming. Part of her wanted to take them all back to Evenfall, away from this dreary island that reminded her of rotting fish washed onto the shore. And yet part of her was ready to see what Jaime had in mind for their next big adventure. She was torn, but she knew it was time to move on.

When they reached the docks, Podrick spotted them and signaled to the rest of the crew that Brienne would be coming aboard. Lanny didn't hesitate to ask the difficult question. "When will we see you again?"

Brienne kneeled down and hugged the children close. "Oh, my dears. It might be a while before we see each other in person. But we can always use our memories to be together again."

"And our imaginations." Ned chimed in.

"That's true." Brienne was holding back tears so as not to make it harder on the children.

Theon sensed this and approached them, kneeling down as well and putting his arms around the children. After Lanny and Ned gave Brienne a few final hugs, Pod ushered them back to their mother. Theon offered his hand to Brienne, and they stood up together.

"Well...I knew it from our first encounter. You're one of the finest people I'll ever know." His voice faded to a whisper. "Thank you, Brienne of Tarth. For my life...for my family."

Brienne looked into his eyes and gave him a knowing smiled. "Yes, we started with a long journey and ended with one. I guess you're not so bad after all, Greyjoy."

"It took you long enough to figure that out." He smirked. "Thank your father again when you see him..."

"Alright. And you take care of them, Theon. I know you will. Or I wouldn't be leaving."

He nodded gratefully, accepting her praise, and they shook hands, like honorable knights after a jousting tournament.

Theon went over to say goodbye to Pod, and he took the children by the hands, kissing Sansa on the cheek. "We'll wait for you at Pyke."

He started to guide the children back to the castle. "C'mon, you two. I'll show you the secret tunnels where I used to play with Yara when I was your age." At least, he had a vague memory of doing so. Besides, they needed a distraction.

As they started to follow their father on the trail back to Pyke, Lanny and Ned, with tears in their eyes, turned to wave good-bye to Brienne. She placed her hands over her heart and bowed towards them.

Sansa had been waiting patiently for her turn to say good-bye to Brienne, watching all of the sadness unfold in front of her.

"I suppose I must say some formal words to release you." Her voice was stilted. Sansa searched her dear friend's face for what to say next.

"Ah, yes. The fealty pledge is for life...or until you deem me unworthy..."

"Brienne!"

"Well, let me finish. Or...until you decide my services are no longer needed." She moved closer to Sansa and stood squarely in front of her with her head bowed, waiting expectantly.

"Alright. Um...Brienne of Tarth, my worthy and faithful knight. You have served me well and seen me through difficult times. You offered a home for me and my family and honored us day in and day out with your protection and generosity. I, Sansa Stark of...Pyke, respectfully decline your continued services and declare you...free?" She was making the words up as she went along, but more than anything, she wanted to show Brienne her respect and gratitude.

Brienne started to kneel down, but Sansa stopped her by putting her arms around Brienne and hugging her with great affection. "My mother and father would be so grateful to you."

"Lady Sansa, you are too kind. I didn't quite fulfill my promise to your mother, but it was the best I could do, given the circumstances." Brienne started to loosen the sheath where she kept Oathkeeper and offered the sword to Sansa.

"I want you to have this. It doesn't mean I'm going to stop looking for Arya, but it belonged to your father - in a way, and I want you to use it if you need it...since I won't be here."

Sansa used two hands to grasp the hilt. "I suppose I should have trained harder during my time at Evenfall."

"You did enough. At least you're comfortable holding a sword now. Maybe your sister-in-law can teach you a thing or two." Brienne winked and turned to hug Sansa again, patting her gently on her back. "Oh, my little sister. You've made me proud."

"Please be careful out there."

"I will. Of course, I'll have to look after Jaime, but he'll keep things interesting, I'm sure."

"Reach out to us here if you ever come this way again, or if you find Arya...or my brothers."

"I will do that. And you stay strong for those children. And for Theon. Stay together for as long as you can. Dark forces may try to tear the people you love away from you. Don't allow it."

"You either. Go...enjoy your time with him. You need to put yourself first for once."

Sansa squeezed her friend's hand and turned to go, waving to Podrick and the crew. She waited until the ship was out to sea before she looked for Brienne on deck. And there she was, holding onto Jaime, standing just a few inches taller than him, leaning on him for comfort. 

Sansa heard the children calling for her, so she hurried to catch up with them.


	31. Girl Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yara lets Sansa know how she really feels.

The room was dimly lit, and the curtains were drawn over the windows. Sansa could hear the echos of the children's laughter from somewhere inside the castle. She had expected them to be more melancholy, but perhaps they were in denial about Brienne leaving. Or perhaps they were too young to understand the true dimensions of time and distance.

Sansa could see Yara's arm resting on the side of the chair, but she wasn't sure what to say, or if she should be the one to speak first. She took a deep breath and stepped closer.

“You're here. Sit down." Yara gestured towards the stone bench across from her, and Sansa obliged. "My brother tells me you wed in Tarth.”

“Yes. I don't know how official it was since I had been married before.”

Yara paused and gave her a forced smile. “I don't know how official it is since my brother is no longer a man.”

Sansa wasn't certain that she'd heard Yara correctly, but judging by the look on her face, she had. “I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about Theon that way. He's as much a man as I've ever known.”

“Because he agreed to help raise your bastard children?”

Sansa stood up abruptly. She thought that Yara had summoned her in a gesture of good will, but obviously not. “I'm not sure why you're speaking to me this way, but I'd like to excuse myself if it’s going to continue.”

“Oh, calm down. You ought to have thicker skin than that by now.”

Sansa paused and then sat back down reluctantly. As hard as she tried, she couldn't choke back her emotional response. “I thought you might embrace us. Theon told the children about you, and they've been so excited to meet you. I never fathomed you'd be so disgusted with our situation.”

“I’m not disgusted. It’s just a lot to take in. My brother escaped captivity, but it took him many years to come home. Why the hell was he in Tarth for so long?”

"He wanted to come back sooner, but I suppose he felt obligated to stay with me. And I wasn't in any hurry to leave Tarth - not with two young children and a lunatic on the prowl."

"Especially if said lunatic could stake claim to those children?"

Sansa scowled at Yara. "It doesn't matter now, does it? Good intentions mean nothing to you, honor and loyalty - just for the faint at heart, no?"

"Actually, Sansa dear, loyalty means a great deal to me. Did Theon tell you that I risked everything to try and save him?"

"Yes, of course. He talked about it all the time. It pained him to know that he wasn't strong enough to leave with you. And when your father died...he knew he couldn't stay away any longer."

"Well, you're here now, aren't you?" Yara leaned back to rest her head against the back of the chair. "And I have some news for you...and a proposition."

"News?"

"Yes, of your brothers...two of them anyway. Rickon...and Jon."

Sansa began wringing her hands nervously, awaiting Yara's next words.

"They're alive..."

Sansa let out a gasp of relief and managed to stammer out a few words. "How is that...possible? Where are they?"

"Rickon has been at Winterfell since we took it from the Bolton's. He's there with one of my wildling commanders, Osha, clever woman. She's been looking after him...ever since he escaped my brother."

Sansa nodded, thrilled that Rickon was alive and safe. "And Jon? But I'd received word that he was killed."

"Not from what I've heard. He's taken up with some wilding girl. Lives further North by way of Mole's Town. He's been to see Rickon a few times, but he hasn't wanted to get involved with our armies. Seems there was some trouble he had with the men of the Night's Watch, and he hasn't been himself ever since."

Sansa could hardly believe her ears. She had been waiting for so long for some news of her family.

"I should go to them at once. If only you had told me when we arrived..."

"You were exhausted from your trip. Besides, I wanted to understand your relationship with my brother. And this next part will be very difficult..."

"What part? What are you talking about?"

"I need Theon with me now...instead of tethered to you and your children."

"But Yara..."

"I'll be asking him to ride with me to our main encampments in a few days. And upon our departure, I want you to leave Pyke...for good. I will ensure safe passage for all of you. I may even return Winterfell to you and your kin if you pledge fealty. But Theon stays with me."

"You can't...he won't." Sansa started to protest this unfair and callous arrangement. "And if I say no?"

"Then you'll stay here and suffer the consequences. Most of the ironborn will figure out that those aren't Theon's children. They know what Ramsay did to him. But what they don't know for certain is that those children are Bolton spawn, capable of the darkest deeds. The word will get out, and they'll be ridiculed...or hunted. And you'll be forced to stay within the confines of this castle for your own protection. But if you do leave, the story will be that Theon sent you away for safe-keeping. You'll be his salt wife and those will be his salt children. Then he'll be eligible to marry someone of my choosing."

"He'll never go along with that. He loves the children...he loves me. They're not monsters. You don't understand what we've been through. We're not pieces in a game for you to move around."

"He's had several years with his pretend family. It's time he stayed true to his real family. Besides, it will be weeks before he finds out you've left him."

"Left him? He's not a fool. He'll know that this was your idea, and he'll know where to find us."

"I'll tell him myself...when the time is right. I know what's best for my brother. He's my blood."

Sansa's mind was racing. Theon had been wrong about his sister. She was hardened and unyielding, seemingly incapable of showing compassion towards their relationship. Sansa knew she had to talk to Theon at once. Surely, he could reason with his sister.

"Don't, Sansa. Don't bring Theon into this. You'll only make things worse. He owes me. He owes our people. It's about time he came unchained from the Starks. Your people have had a hold on him for long enough. Let him go."


	32. Rock Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa struggles with what to do next...cuz I was ready to write some angst.

Sansa was standing next to the smaller bed, watching the children as they slept. Lanny's arm was cradling Ned's side, her head resting close to his on the pillow. Sansa pulled a blanket over them and turned to the bed across the room where Theon was waiting for her...unless he'd fallen asleep already.

But she soon discovered that he was wide awake as he pulled her into his arms and began running his fingers along her back and through her hair. He whispered sleepily into her ear. "Are you alright? You were quiet during dinner...and afterwards."

She turned into his body and rested her head against his chest. "I have a lot on my mind, I guess. Saying goodbye to Brienne and wondering about the future. And how the children will do here. And whether I should go in search of my brothers...and Arya."

"That's a lot."

"It's hard to quiet my thoughts sometimes."

"But don't forget...I'll go with you."

"Where?"

"Looking for your brothers and Arya."

Sansa responded quickly. "Of course." She kissed Theon softly and buried her face into his neck, pressing her nose against his skin. She was very familiar with his musky scent, but this time, she noticed a hint of the sea too. Pyke seemed to be agreeing with him.

"Everything will be fine, Sansa."

She sighed. It would be better if they stopped talking and went to sleep. She was trying to behave as normally as possible and to act as though her world wasn't being turned upside down. Sansa was paralyzed with indecision and fear, and she desperately wanted to tell Theon about Yara's demand. There was no reason to harbor secrets between them. He'd know what to do, or they'd figure something out.

"Yara will help us. She just needs time to get to know me again. And all of you." Theon was too star struck with his sister to suspect that anything was wrong. 

Sansa laughed nervously. "I suppose."

He pulled himself up on his elbow and looked down into her eyes. "What did she say to you before dinner?"

Sansa met his gaze, and even in the darkness, she could see the hopefulness in his eyes. He so longed to have his families united, wanting some semblance of normalcy, after having his entire childhood and most of his adulthood stolen from him.

"Oh, you can imagine..."

"No, I can't. You never know what Yara's going to say."

"Well...just that, well...along the lines of what you said...about helping us...me...maybe find my family."

"Really?"

"Well, yes...I mean, after she gave me a stern warning about how a rock wife should behave."

Theon laughed and leaned down to kiss Sansa. "That sounds about right." She could sense the relief in his voice, but surely he would pick up on her nervous tone if they talked much longer.

He did grow quiet for a few minutes. "I told her about Bran and Rickon...and how they escaped."

"Oh?" Sansa turned her head and moved back into Theon's arms, resting the side of her face on the pillow to keep him from seeing the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

But she started to tremble, and a soft sob escaped her lips. Theon hugged her tightly and whispered to her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I know that you miss them. And Brienne. But we'll be happy here. I know we will. And we'll find them."

Sansa held onto his arms but continued to cry quietly. She didn't know what to do...or what to say.

So she told him that she wasn't crying because of anything he'd said. It was just everything they'd been through and that she had been holding her feelings inside too long. Sansa suggested that they talk in the morning and that some rest would do them both good.

"Besides, you know that Lanny will be up at first light, wanting to go exploring."

"Yes, and asking for her aunt Yara."

"Mm-hmm." She had no more words. At the mention of "Aunt Yara," Sansa was reminded of her growing anger towards her dear sister-in-law and the reality that their little family was in danger of coming apart.

"Good night, Sansa. Try to rest."

"Good night, Theon. I'll do my best...for you."


	33. The Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more roll in the proverbial hay...

Sansa reached the top of the landing first. They were both almost out of breath, having climbed what seemed like hundreds of stairs. She looked around the mostly empty chamber. "You've already found a hiding place, I see. Did you come here as a boy?"

Theon nodded. "A few times probably. Best view of the islands. Come and see." 

Sansa stepped over to the window and looked out upon the sea. It would have been a breath-taking view if there was anything about Pyke that appealed to her. Theon was standing next to her and watching her expression. "Just tell me you don't want me to go, and I'll stay."

Sansa kept a steady gaze on the long stretch of sea in front of them. She knew that when they decided to return to Pyke, it was likely Theon would have to join in the fighting. She just didn't expect to be forced to leave him. Yara had laid out her scheme to him that morning, except for the part about Sansa and the children going away behind his back, of course.

"I can't...it's not my place."

"It is your place. And it's too soon, I know."

"If Yara wants to give you this chance, maybe it's best to take it now." Sansa could tell he was torn about traveling so soon yet thrilled with the prospect of proving himself to his sister.

"We'll only be gone a week or two. She wants me to meet more of her commanders."

"It'll go by quickly."

"And I'd really like to be a part of the attack on the Twins...for Robb...and your mother." Theon placed his hands over Sansa's, and she finally turned to look at him.

"I won't lie and say I'm thrilled you'll be away from us. But I knew this was a possibility. We were isolated in Tarth, more lucky than we realized. I thought we'd have more time to settle in here before you'd be called away, but I understand why it has to be now." Sansa sounded so convincing, she almost believed her words. The more she'd thought about their circumstances, the more she wondered if Yara didn't have a point. Maybe it was time to let Theon do something more with his life than live in the shadow of a Stark.

Theon pulled her hand towards his lips and kissed the back of her hand. "I love you, you know." She smiled at him, as much as she could, given what she feared was ahead for them.

He started to lead her towards a corner of the room that was littered with blankets and pillows. She looked at him with a curious expression as he sat down and kicked off his boots.

"What are you doing?"

"Come down here with me."

"Oh, I see." She looked at him teasingly, her hand resting on her hip. "And what if someone comes looking for us?"

"Yara's gone into town. And I asked the cook to keep the children occupied. She's teaching them to make Kraken stew. It'll take at least an hour. Plenty of time for us to work up an appetite."

"Theon." Sansa was only mildly protesting. After all, she wanted to feel anything right now other than the gnawing sadness in the pit of her stomach. She was going to miss being with him for however long they were separated.

Sansa slowly lowered herself on top of him and leaned in to kiss him. He swiftly pulled on the front of her dress, undoing enough buttons so that he had room to reach beneath the material and run his fingers gently over her breasts. She let out a low moan and pulled his fingers into her mouth, slowly caressing each one with her tongue.

In a matter of minutes, they had undressed each other, their bodies intertwined, arms and legs wrapped tightly. The warmth from their skin was staving off the cold sea breeze blowing in through the tower windows. They kissed deeply and achingly, knowing that they would soon be apart, and then Theon pulled his lips gently away from hers. He began inching his mouth down her neck, lingering over breasts and then working his way down her navel with every intention of tasting her below. But she stopped him.

"Wait. Can you turn...the other way?"

He gave her an appreciative smile. "Whatever the Lady wants."

Sansa pulled a pillow under her head and positioned herself beneath him as he climbed over her, his legs straddling her shoulders. She lifted her head to move her tongue over the sensitive skin between his legs. He sighed with pleasure, burying his face in the warm dark space between her legs, moving his tongue in and out of her.

She cried out, arching her back, losing herself in the moment, and letting the sensation from his rhythmic lapping drive her into oblivion. She managed to continue stimulating him with her mouth and hands. Then she moved her fingers into him as he lifted his head and chest into the air, pushing his hips downward and stroking her now with his fingers.

After several minutes, Sansa opened her eyes and watched as he threw his head back, his body trembling, trying to keep focus on her but slowly losing control. His face contorted and he grunted several times before wrapping his arms around her knees and resting his body on top of hers. 

But not for long. Theon turned so that their faces were aligned again, kissing her and then moving downwards to the position he had originally intended - where he could watch her reaction. He tasted her again, pressing his lips and tongue between her legs as he ran his hands upwards to stroke the tips of her breasts. She could feel the wave of pleasure increase until she couldn't hold back any longer. She bit into her lower lip, holding back a cry, but his name escaped from her mouth anyway.

They curled up together under one of the blankets. Theon ran his fingers tenderly along her cheeks and looked into her eyes, noticing what he thought was deep sorrow. But Sansa blinked it away, before he could even think to ask, and looked back at him bravely and unwavering. Then she kissed him. _Somehow_ , she reasoned, _we won't be apart for long_.


	34. Like Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yara tells Sansa like it is. And then Yara does what she wants...she is Ironborn after all.

Sansa was seated in front of the mirror, running a brush through her thick hair and thinking about her time with Theon from earlier that evening. She paused for a second when she heard footsteps approaching.

"Theon?" She whispered his name since the children were asleep.

"Not Theon. Yara."

"Where's Theon?"

"I'm sure he'll be up soon. He's looking over some battle plans I've drawn up. I'd like to speak with you."

"What is it now?"

"May I?"

Yara already had her fingers around Sansa's wrist and was pulling the brush from her hand.

"I guess I can't say no. I was just about to braid it."

"Allow me. I never had a sister...or long hair that would do nicely in a braid. But believe it or not, I had dolls growing up."

"I don't believe it. Are you carrying scissors? Do you plan to cut off my hair?"

"What kind of a person do you take me for? I'm not petty and childish."

"No, just manipulative and possessive."

Yara grunted and proceeded to brush out three sections of hair. Then she pulled two of them together tightly.

"Ouch. Not so hard."

"I'm sorry. I like to get a nice grip. Anyway, it seems like you've managed to keep your mouth shut."

"Yes. For now. Anything else you need from me?"

"No. I'll start making arrangements for your travel, and I'll get word to your brothers."

"Lovely. You've been so accommodating."

Then there was silence between them as Yara finished the braid and held out her free hand for a ribbon. Sansa obliged. 

"There. All done. You're a very pretty girl...or woman, I should say. I can see why he's so enamored with you."

Sansa turned around to glare at Yara. "Can you? Do you even know what love looks like? Or are you too fucking obssessed with your thirst for conquest?" The words tasted bitter coming out of her mouth, but she couldn't hold back any longer.

Yara could sense that Sansa was on the verge of unleashing a few more unpleasantries, so she motioned for Sansa to follow her out of the room.

When they were in the hallway, Sansa started to open her mouth when Yara backed her into the wall and pressed her body against Sansa. "Do you know what it takes to lead armies of thousands of men? And to have them respect you and your vision, knowing they might die?"

Sansa continued looking at her defiantly and then shook her head.

"It's simple...brains...guts...and heart. Do you really think I have time for any stupid distractions? Or if I give two shits about love? Well, I didn't. Until my brother showed back up here, after I thought he was gone forever. It's not a concept lost on you either. You have brothers that you're desperate to see...I suppose you love them."

"Of course. But Yara -"

"So get the fuck over it. You have what you have until you don't have it anymore. That's the world we live in."

Yara started to back away and turn towards the stairs, but Sansa followed her.

"Then let's ask him. Let's tell Theon about your plans and why it has to be _your_ way. Because it doesn't make a bit of sense to me..."

"And it never will. Just go to bed, Sansa. Sweet dreams. Leave reality to the people who can handle it." 

^^^^^^^^^^

"Mother! Wake up, wake up! Where's Father?"

Sansa bolted upright from the sound of concern in Lanny's voice and started to move her hands over the cold, empty space next to her. She looked frantically around the room and noticed a folded piece of paper resting on the table by the door. Lanny saw it too and went over to grab it before Sansa could get out of bed.

"Let me see it."

Lanny handed the paper over to her mother. "What does it say?"

Sansa opened the note and scanned the words quickly. A lump formed in her throat. Theon had left with Yara already. He didn't want to wake them, and apparently, there was some immediate need to leave in the middle of the night. _Yes_ , Sansa thought to herself, _the need was to get him away from us as quickly as possible_. 

Sansa wanted to curse Yara out loud, but she took a deep breath instead and clutched the note to her chest.

"Lanny...do you remember what your father said last night? About having to travel soon? Well, he had to leave unexpectedly with Yara. He wants us to go to Winterfell and wait for him." A lie, but she didn't want the children to know that anything was amiss.

"I had a dream that he left us." Lanny began sobbing, and Sansa hugged her close.

"Shhh. There, there, my darling. It's alright. Let's not wake your brother. Come here with me for a few minutes."

"I didn't get to say goodbye."

"We'll see him soon enough."

Lanny curled up next to her mother as Sansa patted her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"I don't like it here."

"Really? You've seemed fine to me. There's lots to explore."

"It's cold and cloudy and dark. The water's too rough for swimming, and I miss Brienne."

"I do too. But you'll like Winterfell. It will be colder than it is here, and we'll be further from the sea, but it's surrounded by interesting woods, and my brothers will be there...your uncle Rickon and maybe uncle Jon."

"Really?" Lanny seemed to perk up at this news.

"C'mon. Maybe we should get your brother up and start packing our things." Lanny nodded, but she wasn't entirely convinced.

"Aunt Yara doesn't like us...does she?"

"Listen, don't worry about Aunt Yara. She's a very busy woman."

Sansa couldn't help but smile to herself only because Lanny was always so intuitive and could pinpoint the undercurrents in most situations. This place was unwelcoming in more ways than one. But her smile faded quickly as her thoughts turned to Theon and when they would actually see him again. She didn't know what Yara had planned to distract him and keep him away, but she knew deep down that he wouldn't go along with it. Blood be damned. For the time being, she would have to keep a brave face for the children and focus on their future.

Sansa began readying a few of their things for the journey. They could leave after a decent breakfast. Her main consolation in all of this was being reunited with her brothers, so she turned her focus to them and staying strong for the twins, rather than dwelling on the aching sensation in her heart.


	35. Reunion, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to head back North...

It didn't take them long to pack, and there was really no one and nothing to say good-bye to. With Yara and Theon gone, the servants of Pyke treated Sansa and the children with mostly disinterest. Sansa thought it fitting that rain was pouring down from the skies on the day of their departure. She was told by one of the ironborn guards that a ship would be leaving in an hour or so and that they should plan to be on it.

Sansa sat by the fireplace in the main room while the children played nearby. She was seated on Yara's "throne" and dared anyone to say a word to her about it. Balon Greyjoy had occupied that same chair for many years, and even though she'd never met him, Sansa could feel his suffocating spirit around them. 

The head servant called to Sansa from outside the door. "They're ready for you." 

"Very well. Thank you."

The twins were mostly quiet. Ned's eyes were still red from crying. 

"Lanny and Ned...time to go."

"Are we going back on a ship?" Lanny was sulking and dreading another trek across Westeros.

"Yes, my dear. It won't be as long as our trip from Tarth, but once we hit land, we'll still have a ways to go."

Sansa ushered both children towards the front of the castle. The head servant was kind enough to walk the children down to the docks, covering them as best as possible. Sansa followed behind with their belongings, the hood of her cloak shielding her face from most of the rain. She squinted through the drizzle, looking out at the water and hoping to see Theon. 

As they boarded the small ship, Sansa refused to go below deck with the children, watching the other vessels docking and praying that Theon would emerge and join them. But there was no sign of him. Her heart sank as Pyke became smaller and smaller until it was no longer visible.  

^^^^^^^^^^

The Kingsroad was desolate and dreary and mostly covered in snow. They traveled from sun up to sun down, either making camp in the woods, or there was an occasional shelter that was being maintained by "friends" of the Greyjoy armies. Every few days, they would stop at a tavern for a hot meal. Sansa was tempted to reveal her identity and perhaps secure nicer accommodations. It was more for the children. They weren't accustomed to the cold at all, and she herself had never experienced a winter like this. Nor had she known of one to last so long.

Sansa paid careful attention to the conversations the guards had along their journey. She would pretend to be asleep and try to decipher their mumbled jargon. So far, she had gathered that most everyone in the South knew that Yara and company were plotting an attack. But it was a stalemate at this point - a country divided - as Yara didn't have the troops to launch a successful coup in Kings Landing, and the Lannisters weren't going to plan an invasion of the North during the long, frigid winter.

There was talk of the Targareyan woman and her dragons in the East. But most interesting to Sansa, there were rumblings that some of the houses in the North were not pleased about having to share their lands and provisions with wildlings or their ironborn allies. 

Days and days passed by, along with miles and miles of blanketed hills and snow-covered trees. They finally reached the clearing that was all too familiar to Sansa. She couldn't believe her eyes. _Winterfell._ Home. And it looked even more beautiful than she'd remembered, especially knowing that the Boltons had been obliterated and that every trace of them was gone.

A part of her wanted to wake the children and share this moment with them, but she decided to let them rest. As they neared the perimeter of the castle, Sansa noticed that the banners along the walls bore the Greyjoy family sigil. She sighed, letting her thoughts turn to Theon for just a moment. Sansa had imagined if she was ever to return to Winterfell, it would be with Theon by her side, facing their memories behind those walls together. 

She drew in a deep breath, the cold air filling her lungs. She was nervous and excited about seeing her brothers. What did they look like? Had too much time passed for them to even recognize one another? The last time she'd seen Rickon, he was so young and mostly at their mother's side. And Jon. Yara had made it sound like he wasn't really himself anymore. But who was he anyway? Sansa had never really tried to get to know him when they were children. She had allowed her mother's scorn to creep into her heart and had mostly avoided Jon.

One of the ironborn guards knocked on the door and announced their presence. It wasn't long before she could hear the sound of the plank being lifted from the latch on the other side and the doors slowly creaking open. And there they stood - her brothers. She recognized them instantly. But she had to blink because for a moment, she saw them the way she remembered from nearly a decade ago - Rickon smiling and waving, his curls blowing every which way and Jon with his hair tied back, hand resting on the hilt of his sword and his face bearing a serious, unbreakable expression.

She jumped down from the wagon and ran to them at full force, her arms stretched out, ready to embrace both of them at once. And as she moved closer to them, the innocence and youthfulness that she had first imagined was replaced with a dark weariness in their faces. Still, their eyes were bright and their smiles welcoming.

They caught Sansa in their arms, and the three of them held each other tightly, weeping and laughing and remembering what it meant to be together again in Winterfell.

"You're home now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sniff, sniff. It was hard to write a chapter with no Theon, but at least Rickon lives on in this fic...


	36. Reunion, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stark children catch up...

Sansa studied her brothers as theyromped around the courtyard, holding hands with Lanny and Ned, pausing to scoop up snow, and showing the children how to make snowballs. Rickon still had an innocence about him, but Sansa could tell he was wise beyond his years. It warmed her heart to see how quickly the children took to him.

Jon was a different story. Sansa noticed how he got winded easily and would cross an arm over his chest, as if he was making sure that his body was still in one piece. He seemed like a shell of his former self. She couldn't imagine what either of them had been through.

One of the ironborn guards approached her. "You'll be getting word to Yara then? That we delivered you safe and unharmed? We'd like to get our payment."

"Yes, of course. Thank you. Where shall I send the raven?"

"Back to Pyke. Yara's probably home by now."

Home...with Theon. Sansa hoped nothing horrible had happened to him. Even if they couldn't be together for now, she would feel better knowing that he was unharmed. Sansa escorted the ironborn guards to the gate. Then her ears perked up to a familiar sound. The cook was calling everyone inside for dinner. 

^^^^^^^^^^

Lanny and Ned scraped their utensils over the plates of food in front of them. They were getting used to their new surroundings, and they were fascinated watching Jon and Rickon eat.

Jon noticed them staring at him and smiled. "I 'spose you should be the ones who are ravenous and not us, eh?" He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and continued tearing into the large chunk of meat on his plate.

Rickon looked at Sansa. "You're raising 'em proper, I'd say. When you spend as much time with the Free Folk as we have, you sort of forget about all those kneeler customs."

"Kneeler, is it?" Sansa was amused that her brothers seemed to identify more with the wildlings now. And she had to be careful about using the word _wildling_ \- they had corrected her once already. "You have to tell me about everything that's happened since we were separated."

"You too - although we heard you've spent the last few years with that turncloak." Rickon gulped down the rest of the wine in his gobblet and awaited Sansa's reply.

But Lanny was quick with a question. "What's a turncloak?"

Sansa answered before Rickon could. "It's someone who does something unexpected that might hurt other people."

"Is he talking about that bad man who came to hurt us in Evenfall?"

"I suppose he could be. Rickon, you've heard of the Boltons?"

"Of course. I was nearby when Yara Greyjoy and her armies took Winterfell back fromthem."

"Did she tell you about what Ramsay did to her brother?"

"She might have mentioned something about that."

Sansa leaned in closer to Rickon. "Ramsay did some of those things to me too. Theon and I escaped together."

Lanny wasn't sure what her mother was whispering, but she was quick to chime in again. "Do you know our father? We miss him."

"Who's she talking about?" Rickon was puzzled.

"She's talking about Theon. Theon Greyjoy." Ned was happy to finally be a part of the conversation.

"But how is that possible? I thought he - "

Jon cleared his throat and kicked Rickon under the table. "Perhaps it would be best to speak of this later. Lanny and Ned, would you like to see the rest of Winterfell?"

"Can we go with our uncle, Mother?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Jon."

"I'll let you _Starks_ catch up." Jon winked at Sansa before herding the children into another room.

She waited a moment before revisiting the conversation about Theon. "Rickon...I'm sorry about what happened when Theon seized Winterfell." It was obvious to Sansa that Rickon was still harboring an immense anger towards him. But she had made her peace with everything a long time ago.

"You shouldn't apologize for someone else."

"He's my husband, Rickon. I've forgiven him. I hope that you can too."

"Maybe if you'd have been here when it happened, it wouldn't be such an easy thing to forgive. And maybe you wouldn't have married him. He butchered Ser Rodrik, you know, and anyone else who didn't fall to their knees at his command. Bran and I had to run away because of him. If Hodor and Osha hadn't help us escape, I wouldn't be alive."

An awkward silence filled the very large room.

"Have you seen Bran or heard anything about him?"

"No. I've had dreams about him. I've dreamed that he's the one controlling this long winter. And that he's been keeping the white walkers at bay with his powers."

"So you believe what they say about the undead?"

"Sure do. Jon's seen 'em first hand. They're real, and they're coming."

"Is that why Jon's so different now? Yara said he lives further North from Winterfell."

"He's been through anything and everything you could imagine. He'll have to tell you his story, or you'll never believe it. But yes, he lives near Mole Town. He and Craster's daughters cleaned it up. Found jobs for those women. It used to be full of whores."

"Craster's daughters?"

"More Free Folk. Jon's married to one of them...or whatever they call their union. Her name's Sissy. No children yet. She's looking after Ghost while he's here."

"Ghost?! And what about Shaggydog?"

"He's around here somewhere."

Sansa had more questions and hoped Rickon didn't mind. She could fill him in later aboutTarth, perhaps if he could ever be more accepting of Theon. Anything darker than that - like her time in Kings Landing or the excruciating details ofher marriage to Ramsay - she'd save for another day. Best to focus on the present.

"And tell me about...Osha?"

"She's been like a mother to me, and she had no reason to take care of me as good as she did...after practically being enslaved here."

"Here?"

"Yes, she had come from the other side of the Wall with a few others and was captured by Robb for trying to attack Bran. Only it wasn't her doing. So Robb let her live and work here for a time. She pledged her loyalty to our family." 

"Osha is a wild- I mean, one of the Free Folk?"

"That's right. And she's also a respected commander under Yara. You'll meet her later. She should be back before sunrise. Osha was planning to travel to Pyke, but her plans changed." 

"I'd like to meet her and thank her for everything she's done for you."

"It wasn't easy. She's had a lot to manage."

Sansa smiled and patted her brother's hand. "I'm so relieved that you're alright. And Jon. I've missed you all terribly."

"We're beyond happy that you're here, Sansa."

"Thank you for making us feel welcome. I'm wondering if I better fetch the children and get them to bed."

"They're full of life."

"Thank gods we've been able to protect them all this time. I hope they never know some of the things we've seen."

"You and him raised 'em?"

"Yes...him." Sansa's eyes were welling up with tears. Him. He should be here. Theon had witnessed atrocities committed against her under this very roof and helped her escape them. And he deserved the chance to show Rickon that he wasn't a monster.

"Rickon, I know it's a lot to ask, but Theon is the only father that Lanny and Ned have ever known. Please, for their sake, don't speak of him in such a harsh way. He's family to us. For a long time, he was our world, and Yara insisted on separating us. I know it's hard to fathom, but...I love him." Sansa looked into Rickon's eyes, her own eyes pleading with his. He looked away and sighed...but nothing more.

^^^^^^^^^^

Her brothers had insisted that she stay in their parents' old room with the children. They'd gone to sleep right away, and she was relieved with how content Lanny and Ned were. Sansa had fallen into a deep sleep when a hand began pushing on her back.

"Sansa?"

It was Rickon.

"What is it, little brother?"

His hands were shaking nervously. "Will you come with me? Please?"

Sansa nodded and put on her cloak, turning to make sure Ned and Lanny were still asleep.

When they were outside of the room, Sansa asked Rickon if she needed to be worried.

"No. I just need to show you something."

He led her down the stairs and into the courtyard and over to the kennels...wait...the kennels? Rickon would have no way of knowing that the kennels brought back horrific memories of Ramsay.

He paused before going inside. "It's at the end."

Eerie. His words reminded her of those taunting words from that horrible girl. What was her name? Myranda.

Sansa braced herself for that same pungent smell from the time she'd entered the kennels years before. But there wasn't a distinct smell, and everything was much tidier than before. A few candles were burning to light her way.

"Rickon? What is it?"

"Please. Keep going." Rickon looked around anxiously, as if he didn't want anyone to know what they were up to.

Sansa took a deep breath and continued until she reached the far back compartment of the kennel and peered inside.

She nearly fainted. It couldn't be. Her eyes were playing tricks on her.  

"Theon..."


	37. Together Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well...it's better than their last stay at Winterfell.

It couldn't be. _Theon._  He wasn't disheveled and grotesque nor laying crumpled on the cold ground, but there he was. Sansa's words caught in her throat, her eyes darting back and forth between Theon behind the locked bars and Rickon who was still wringing his hands nervously.

Theon spoke first. "Sansa, it's not as bad as it -" And then he was interrupted by loud and angry barking, and a giant direwolf emerged from the shadows in the space where Theon was confined.

Sansa's heart skipped a beat. The ferocious barking echoed through the kennel and reminded her of Ramsay's vicious hounds. She shuddered, then remembered that this was the same place but a different time. And she recognized that barking mongrel, although it had been years since she'd seen Shaggydog.

Sansa scolded him and told him to sit. But he didn't obey her commands and began backing Theon against the wall.

"Rickon!" She hissed at her brother. "Calm him down! And help me get Theon out of here!"

Rickon hurried towards the kennel. "Down. Shaggy! Now!"

Instantly, the dog backed away from Theon and sat down on his hind legs. He continued to emit a low growl.

Now that the chaos had passed and the initial shock of finding Theon in the kennels was wearing off, Sansa realized that he seemed mostly unharmed.

"Are you alright?"

Theon was staring gratefully at her but also keeping an eye on Shaggy. He nodded. "I'm glad to see you."

"Can you come closer?"

"No. The wolf."

"Rickon? Please tell Shaggy to stay. Or better yet, give me the key."

"I don't have it."

"Well who does?"

Rickon shrugged his shoulders. "Stay, Shaggy."

Sansa wove her fingers through the metal rungs of the door and waited anxiously for Theon to approach. He rose up slowly and cautiously while Rickon continued repeating the command to his direwolf. When Theon was close enough, he threaded his fingers into Sansa's and let out a sigh of relief.

_"How are the children?"_

_"Who did this to you?"_

They both let out a sigh of relief, and Sansa let Theon speak next. "I could hear your voices earlier...from the courtyard. I wanted to come to you."

"Are you hurt? What are you doing here?"

"No, I'm okay. It's not like before. Nothing like before." He grew silent for a moment. "I left Yara weeks ago after she revealed your secret arrangement. We were arguing about my future, and I threatened to leave. She told me if I was going to throw everything away, I might as well not go back to Pyke since you were gone..."

Theon didn't seem angry towards Sansa, maybe a little hurt. She lowered her eyes and whispered gently. "I'm sorry for not saying anything. I didn't want to stand in your way. Yara has plans for you."

"More like she _had_ plans. Sansa...we can't keep things from each other, and we can't split up our family again. Promise me?"

"But Theon..."

"Promise."

"Alright. I promise. Will you forgive me for leaving?"

"Yes, if you forgive me for being too blind to realize that my sister wasn't playing nice."

"Yara. Did she order this?"

"No, I don't think so."

"How do we get you out of here?"

Just then, the sound of plodding footsteps filled the chamber, and a figure emerged from the shadows.

"You don't get him out. He's to remain a prisoner until I say otherwise."

Sansa turned to face a strange-looking woman, who was next to Rickon and patting his shoulder. She was unkempt, to say the least, from her head to her toes, her hair wild and her face stained with traces of dirt. Her clothes were made mostly of fur, and she griped the sheath of a sword in her right hand.

"You must be Osha?"

"That's right, Lady Sansa. Pleased to make your acquaintance. And now it's time you returned to your chambers. This...traitor...doesn't deserve your kindness."

Sansa looked to Rickon and then at Theon who now wore an expression of shame. She took a deep breath and moved closer to where Osha was standing.

"This traitor is my husband...and he has fully repented for his wrong-doings. You have no grounds to hold him here. Winterfell is my home. Release him at once."

This elicited a loud cackle from Osha, and she doubled over, trying to catch her breath. Rickon remained silent while Sansa's expression turned from anger to contempt. "Enough!"

Osha covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter. "My apologies, Lady Sansa. My issue is not with you...but him."

"Did Yara command this?"

"No, M'lady. But she's aware that her brother is here."

"I see. Well...I've been informed of something myself." Sansa stepped within an inch of the woman and stared into her dark eyes. "As I understand it, you, your fearless leader, and your armies are at a standstill. And I have friends just outside of Kings Landing. Powerful friends. With powerful armies."

Osha started to yawn, and Sansa surprised even herself by grabbing at Osha's collar and pushing her against the wall. "I suggest that you unlock that door immediately and let him out. And then maybe I'll help you."

Osha didn't seem intimidated at all, but she was intrigued. Rickon whispered something to her, and Sansa hoped that her little brother was on her side.

"You've really forgiven him for what he did to your family? Your people? Several of them died under this very roof because of his failed takeover."

"They would have died anyway. Roose Bolton betrayed my family and killed my brother. And then his bastard took Theon prisoner and tortured him and desecrated my home." Sansa paused to collect herself. "And then me."

"M'lady, I'm sorry for what you've been through, but he can't be trusted."

"He helped me escape and start a new life. Either you let him go, or you can lock me in there with him. I'm not leaving him."

Osha turned to Rickon, as if awaiting a signal. He nodded, and Osha reluctantly moved her hand beneath her fur garment, pulling out a metal ring with a set of keys.

"We have some things to talk about. Give me your word that you'll remain in Winterfell and that he won't do anything stupid."

"Of course."

"Fine. I'll release him to you. Come to supper in the main room tomorrow evening. Rickon will accompany you until then...and Shaggydog too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our love birds have one more surprise left in store for them...


	38. Something Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another surprise awaits Sansa and Theon.

After Osha opened the cell door and dismissed them, Sansa quickly led Theon away from the kennels, wanting to let go of the memories from their last time at Winterfell. It would be that much more difficult since he had just spent days in captivity again.

Theon kept up with her, not wanting to dwell on his most recent ordeal because they were together again and unharmed. Rickon trailed behind them, trying to prevent Shaggydog from leaping at them.

When they turned the corner towards their room, Sansa wrapped her arms around Theon and pushed him against the wall, wildly kissing his face, joyful that he was alright, and never wanting to let go of him. Theon cupped her face with his hands and kissed her deeply on the lips. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me. What Osha said is true. And there's more. I wasn't kind to her before."

"That's not who you are anymore." Sansa pulled his hands to her lips and kissed them gently.

Just then, Rickon came around the corner with a scowl on his face. "You need to stay in my sight." He pushed past them with Shaggydog in tow and slowly opened the door to their room.

Rickon kept his eyes on them as he made a spot for himself on the floor in front of the fireplace. He nodded at Sansa and Theon to come inside the room.

They had decided not to wake up the children but instead, each took a side of the mattress with Lanny and Ned nestled in between them. Sansa felt whole again with Theon's hand in hers. Even something as simple as the sound of his steady breathing brought her comfort.

^^^^^^^^^^

It was Lanny who woke up first.

"Father?" She rubbed her eyes in disbelief. "Are you really here?"

Theon stirred, lifting open one eye, and then he leaned up to kiss her forehead. "Yes, I am. And I'm never going to let you out of my sight again."

He hugged her tightly and nodded when she asked if she could wake up Ned.

^^^^^^^^^^

"At least they left something of Winterfell unharmed."

Theon and Sansa had taken the children to the godswood for some fresh air. Lanny and Ned had clung to Theon all morning but were distracted now by the beauty of the forest, and Shaggydog had taken a liking to them.

Jon joined them for their walk and stayed back to talk to Theon. He was taken aback by Theon's "arrival," mostly brooding at first. Sansa had promised Rickon not to say anything about Osha keeping Theon captive.

Jon stopped Theon when the others were further away. He was ready to unleash the questions he'd been holding in his heart for some time. "The Boltons were scum. And you, Theon Greyjoy, weren't much better. Were you?"

Theon hesitated but then met Jon's glare as a sign of respect. "No, I was not."

"We should try you for your crimes. How is it that Osha hasn't cut off your head?"

"She agreed not to...for my family's sake."

"Your family?" Jon scoffed. "Were you thinking about your brother Robb when you tried to take Winterfell?"

"I was...my Ironborn family. I wanted to make my father proud. I was stupid."

"Worse. You were a traitor. And what of the father who raised you?"

"He would have every right to be ashamed."

Jon nodded and drew in a calming breath. "The only reason I am even speaking with you instead of sticking a sword through you is for her."

From across the pond, Sansa could tell that Jon was pummeling Theon with the same questions he'd been wrestling with for years. She knew Jon needed to do this, but she also knew Theon was weary from being locked up in a cell.

"Jon? Theon?" Sansa called over to them. "Will you please help me get the children washed up before supper?"

^^^^^^^^^^

She was nervous about having to face Osha again. What was the reason for this called gathering? Sansa couldn't be sure if her brothers were trustworthy, at least, not when it came to Theon's fate. They would not be inclined to risk anything for a man they mostly considered an enemy.

Perhaps Yara had managed to break away from her duties and had returned to collect her brother and lord it over Sansa.

Whatever the case, Sansa found it difficult to enjoy the warm stew and crusty bread that had been placed in front of her. She noticed that Theon was equally uncomfortable though he was wearing a brave face for the children.

Osha joined them mid-meal. As soon as she entered the room, Rickon rose up from his chair and went to greet her, pulling her chair out from the table and making sure she was seated comfortably.

Ned and Lanny couldn't stop staring at the strange woman, and Sansa cleared her throat to get their attention. Then she looked straight at Osha. "May I?"

"Indeed."

"Lanny. Ned. This is Osha. One of Aunt Yara's...commanders. She's been a friend and guide to Uncle Rickon over the years. And she's overseeing Winterfell for the time being." That last part was difficult for Sansa to say out loud, but she was learning to swallow her new-found pride.

Osha stood up and walked around the massive table to shake each child's hand. "So glad you're here." When she returned to her seat, Osha addressed the children again. "You know, this was my first time meeting your mother, but your father...well, I knew him when he was a young lad here at Winterfell."

"What was he like?" It was Lanny's favorite question to ask of anyone who mentioned knowing either of her parents when they were younger.

Osha smirked. "How can I put this?"

Sansa quickly intervened. "Children, it might be best if you leave us now. We have important matters to discuss with Osha."

Osha agreed. "What a fine idea. And I think I know someone who would appreciate some company. Rickon? It's time. Go get him." Rickon got up again from the table and exited the room.

Sansa braced herself. Where was Rickon going? She looked over at Theon, and their eyes met. He was just as puzzled.

Osha was clearly enjoying their reactions to her charade. Who was this mystery person?

Sansa soon had her answer. Rickon returned with a young boy, perhaps just a few years older than the twins. He seemed obedient and demure, walking quietly over to Osha and standing still as if awaiting her command.

"This is my son. Klayton. And Klay, this is Lady Sansa and her children."

He was pale and thin with unkempt hair, much like his mother's, and when the boy looked up at them, Sansa swore his eyes looked familiar.

"Nice to meet you." The boy nodded politely. Sansa already knew not to expect a bow since he had been raised among the free folk.

"And of course, Prince Theon."

"Yes. Hello."

Yara patted the boy on the back. "If you'll allow it, Klayton can entertain the children for a little while, perhaps read them a story or two."

Sansa wanted to object, but she didn't feel that she had much of a choice. She wondered if Theon felt any differently, but he wasn't saying much of anything.

"I'm not sure."

Osha turned to the twins. "Lanny and Ned, would you like to go with Klayton?"

The children nodded enthusiastically. It wasn't often that they had opportunities to be around other children.

"I'll go with them." Theon started to get up, but Osha stopped him.

"I think you should stay. Rickon, you go."

Rickon looked surprised. "Are you sure?"

"You and Jon. Leave us."

As soon as the room cleared, Sansa glared at Osha. "Well? Can we please get on with it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Theon and I have been down this road before. We've been captives here before, and we have nothing to hide. What is it you want?"

Theon stood up abruptly from the table and began to speak, but he wouldn't meet Sansa's eyes.

"She wants to tell us that her son...is a Greyjoy. He's...my son."

He finally looked up, waiting for Sansa's reaction, but she only sat there still, mouth agape, watching the smug expression spread across Osha's face.


	39. Heir Apparent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon ponders what to do next...

The more he thought about it, the less it surprised Theon that Osha had gotten pregnant. He'd fucked her every way imaginable that night. She was the last woman he had been with...before Ramsay took his...not that it mattered anymore.

While Theon was being held by Osha in the kennel, Klayton was the one tasked with bringing him scraps of food. The boy sometimes brought him extra water and even a blanket once when he'd complained about the cold. Theon assumed he was related to one of the servants.

It was only during dinner that Theon realized Klayton was his son. And he couldn't help but feel a twinge of affection towards him. It was a strange feeling. He wanted to go to him immediately and apologize for essentially abandoning him, even though it was out of his control.

The old Theon wouldn't have cared at all about a single one of his bastards. But he did now. He knew what it meant to be a father.

^^^^^^^^^^

Nothing more was said the night of the big reveal. Sansa had excused herself immediately from the table, and Theon followed her to collect the twins.

As they lay in bed, Theon mulled over everything that had transpired over the past several months. Now he understood why Yara wanted him to marry someone of her choosing. That someone would have been Osha, not only for the sake of his heir but perhaps to have a more solid union between the irnoborn and the free folk.

Theon wanted to say something reassuring to Sansa. None of this changed anything for their relationship, except he would want to find a way to help the boy and to be a part of his life.

He leaned over to whisper to her. "Still awake?"

"I am."

"May I come over to your side?"

"Alright."

Theon didn't want to wake Ned, who was nestled beside him, so he carefully inched off the side of the bed. Sansa scooted Lanny over and made room for Theon.

"So...what do you think?"

Sansa had now settled in his arms and breathed a soft sigh. "I don't know. It's a lot to take in. What about you?"

"I think people have a shitty way of communicating important information. My sister, for example."

"Do you think she knew?"

"I'm sure of it. I think she wanted you tucked away here until she could dangle my son in front of me and manipulate me into marrying Osha. But she learned pretty quickly that wasn't going to happen."

"Probably didn't help that your betrothed locked you up." Theon could sense the smirk spreading across Sansa's face. "Or maybe that's how the free folk do it."

Theon laughed and slipped his hand into Sansa's as she leaned up to kiss him.

"I guess I shouldn't be making light of these things."

"I don't mind. I just spent the last week in a kennel, where I had been previously held captive by a lunatic, only to be informed upon my release that I have an illegitimate son by my latest captor. What else can we do?"

They shared a comfortable silence as Theon closed his eyes, trying to put himself in Osha's shoes. He imagined a very pregnant Osha, trudging through the snow with young Rickon. It couldn't have been easy to give birth and raise a child on the run.

"Klayton seems kind-hearted. When will you tell him?"

"Depends on Osha. She should have some say in the matter."

"True. I hope we can figure out a way to tell Lanny and Ned. They'll be confused...at first."

"I'll send a raven in the morning to Yara and ask that she pay us a visit."

"Knowing Yara, she's probably already on her way."

^^^^^^^^^^

The voice was very loud and quite familiar to Theon. He stumbled out of bed, pulling on his cloak and quietly shutting the bedroom door behind him. He ran down the stairs to the door that led out to the courtyard.

The scene was unfolding before him. Yara must have just arrived to Winterfell, and she appeared to be scolding Osha.

"There? In the kennels? Like a lowly beast? You do know that's where Ramsay kept him? Have you lost your mind?"

Osha was standing her ground. "But you sent word that he was on his way and to keep him out of sight."

"There wasn't a room you could lock him in? Perhaps with a bed and a fireplace?"

"Shaggy could keep on eye on him in the kennels. You know he can't be trusted."

"Osha...think about who you're talking to. Did you really think I would -"

"Think about what he did, Yara..."

Theon stepped into the courtyard, and both women turned towards him. Osha pulled out a knife from beneath her cloak and held it up menacingly. "Watch him, Yara."

Holding his hands in the air, Theon continued walking towards his sister.

Yara's eyes darted back and forth between the two them. "Put the bloody knife away, woman. The jig is up."

When Theon was a foot or so away from Yara, she looked him straight in the eyes. He was relieved to finally see a softness in her expression as she slowly extended her hand to him. "I'm sorry, Little Brother."

He moved cautiously towards her and took her hand. "What did you just say, Yara?"

"I won't say it again, you little shit. I didn't ask her to do that." She put her hands on his shoulders. "You've royally fucked up all my plans, but I'm so goddam happy you're alive. I should have told you before."

"Wait, are you fucking with me? Because I'm not going to marry her." He looked over Yara's shoulder to make sure Osha hadn't gotten any closer with the knife.

"No, you arse. I'm serious. We still have a few things to figure out, but let's talk later. I need some rest."

"You wake up the whole damn castle with your yelling, but we have to let you rest?"

"Oh, shut your cunt mouth." Yara turned to Osha. "I want a feast prepared for tonight. Enough of this somber atmosphere. The two of you, make it happen, and then have a conversation about your son. After all, he's a Greyjoy and the rightful heir to everything we're about to take."


	40. End Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to negotiate a few things...

Years ago, Theon had blamed the wildling wench for his failed takeover of Winterfell. If Osha hadn't helped Bran and Rickon escape, maybe he could have used the boys as leverage with Robb. Of course, time had proven that Theon was the only one to blame for his downfall. And now, here they were, having defeated the odds, mostly on the same side, and sharing something between them. Someone. A son.

Theon lingered in the doorway before stepping inside the room next to the kitchen. Osha was seated at a small table by the fireplace. She appeared to be sharpening some arrows but paused to look up when he entered the room.

"Come in. I don't bite...anymore."

Theon didn't know why he was so anxious. Maybe because he knew that Osha had the upper hand. "Can we be quick about this?"

A smirk spread over her face. "That's not what you said the last time we was in this room."

Theon cleared his throat. "Right. About that. I'd like to tell Klayton that I'm his -"

"He thinks his father's dead."

"I'm sure. But if I could -"

"We all thought you was dead. Yara couldn't believe it when that message came from Tarth. She nearly told the boy then."

"He's kind...that boy."

"He's too soft. Don't know why. Maybe cuz of Rickon. Always shielding him and filling his head full of the old days. We did pretty good for ourselves, not having no one to turn to."

"I guess I should thank you for how well you raised him."

"Guess you should. So...you want to tell him about his father. Lord Greyjoy?"

Theon cringed slightly, hearing the mocking tone in her voice and remembering the airs he'd put on when Osha had first been brought to Winterfell. He'd felt so superior to her then, like she was lower than the dirt beneath his boots.

"Yes, I'd like to give him my name."

"It's done already. Yara promised."

"And I want to raise him. Help...raise him."

Osha was now readying her bow, likely planning to hunt a boar for the feast. She slowly walked towards him, eyes glaring back at his. "Aye. But it'll cost."

"What do you want?"

"When he's older, I want you to tell him...everything. About your stupid pride. And the way you treated me and your little brothers, Bran and Rickon. Everything about why he came into this world."

Theon thought for a moment, digging his finger nails into his palms, a rush of emotion passing over him - his anger, his arrogance, his foolishness, his despair, and finally, the hope he had found. He took a deep breath and then nodded. "Consider it done."

^^^^^^^^^^

It was a few hours after the feast, after the bread had been leavened and baked and dipped in the juices of the perfectly roasted boar. It was after the wine had been sloshed into goblets and passed around amongst wildlings and Starks and Greyjoys. It was after some awkward merriment and the desire to believe that they were all in this together. It was after all this that Sansa decided to play her remaining card, in the hope of restoring something near and dear to her heart.

All three children were curled up together near the fire, sound asleep next to Shaggy. Theon had dozed off, his head resting against Sansa. Jon was sitting quietly in a corner, listening intently to Rickon as he told Osha about his recent visions of Bran and the white walkers. "He's waiting for the dragons to come and burn them to the ground."

Jon muttered. "She'd better hurry."

"Who, Jon?" Sansa was curious about some of the rumors she'd heard. "The Mother of Dragons?"

"Yes. Daenerys Targaryen."

"But doesn't she want the Iron Throne?"

"Maybe we'll give it to her." Yara suddenly chimed in. "But after we take out Cersei Lannister."

Sansa was skeptical. "You'd just hand over the throne?"

"For a price."

"Well...as long as you're feeling generous...I'd like a word. In private."

Yara swallowed the last of her wine and shrugged slightly. "Fine. Outside."

"Fine."

Sansa shifted so that Theon was resting his head on the back of the seat. He mumbled incoherently as she kissed his forehead and then resumed his slumber.

Once Sansa caught up to Yara in the courtyard, she let her wishes be known right away. "I want Winterfell." She stood firm, arms crossed and face stoic, though her teeth started to chatter from the cold.

Yara didn't seem surprised. "And why would I give you Winterfell?"

"You need me."

"Do I?"

"And because you need Baelish. He owes me."

"And?"

"He's the last hold out. The lords of the Vale can finish off the Freys and any remaining Lannister supporters outside of Kings Landing. Then you can take the city and the Iron Throne with your ships and remaining forces."

"And Baelish will just roll over and play along?"

"Promise him the throne, and let him face the Mother of Dragons."

"Intriguing." Yara kicked at a small mound of snow on the hardened ground. She didn't appear to be terribly moved by anything Sansa had to say.

"What is your end game, anyway, Yara?"

It seemed as though Yara wasn't going to give her the courtesy of a response. She was ignoring Sansa, looking up at the sky instead. Finally, she replied. "I want two things. Control of the waterways in Westeros and a place for the wildlings to call home. I want the Ironborn to be known for what we give and not what we take. I don't see the world like my father nor my father's father. Maybe I did when I was younger, but now I see that no man is born better than any other. The mighty and the self righteous must fall."

She turned to Sansa. "And now you tell me. What's your end game?"

Sansa paused and scanned the courtyard. Although the night was dark and frigid, she could somehow imagine the warmth from a time before.

"I want to restore my family's home. I want to be here for my sister Arya and my brother Bran, should they ever find their way back. I want a place where my family can be safe. But I want that for more than just my own. I want peace and stability in the North and as far across Westeros as possible."

"Then we're not too far apart."

"I suppose not." It was hard for Sansa to believe that Yara had a softer side, and she knew she wouldn't see it often. "Once you've given your blessing to Theon and me..."

"My blessing?"

"He'd live here too."

"After he's served with me..."

"I guess we'll have to leave it up to him."

"Guess so."

"Just remember, Yara...where he goes, I go."


	41. A Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa gets a warning on the way to see Baelish.

Jon agreed to stay at Winterfell and watch over Klayton, and the rest traveled South as discreetly as possible in three groups. Osha and Rickon went ahead of the others en route to the encampments nearest to the Freys. Theon had insisted that he and the children travel with Sansa, so Yara and her guards stayed a few hours ahead of them, clearing the way and ensuring a relatively uneventful trek.

They were two days from the Eyrie and still hadn't come to an agreement about how Sansa would approach Baelish. She wanted to enter the Vale alone while Theon wanted to at least accompany her as a masked guard. "What's the harm if I escort you?"

"I can handle Petyr Baelish. Besides..." Sansa nodded over at Lanny and Ned who were sound asleep in the mattress. "You know why we both can't go."

Yara yawned and shook her head, blowing out the candle that was in the middle of where they were seated. "This is your show, Lady Stark. Just get him on our side. By whatever means necessary." Yara kicked off her boots and found her way over to the vacant mattress. "G'night."

Theon waited a few minutes until he heard his sister's soft snoring and reached over to pat Sansa's arm. "Are you nervous about seeing him again?"

"A little."

"Do you think he still has...feelings...for you?"

"I'm not certain. Perhaps."

"All the more reason for me to go with you."

"All the more reason for you to let me handle him. He won't hurt me."

Theon sighed. "Let's just sleep on it. We're not going to agree on this tonight."

"Actually, I want to get some air."

"Sansa, now's not the time to wander off."

"I'll just go downstairs for a few minutes. The innkeeper has everything locked up."

Theon let her go, begrudgingly, and Sansa re-lit the candle, tiptoeing out of the room and following the hallway that led to the narrow wooden steps, which she descended cautiously. As she reached the downstairs, Sansa scanned the open room. There were candles lit around the tables and a few men had passed out in front of their mugs of ale. Sansa decided it might be better if she went back to the room.

She began backing up the stairs when she collided with someone.

"Watch out, pretty one."

She turned around to a rather gruff looking man standing behind her and chuckling to himself. He was dressed in dark clothes and light armor, but she could not identify a sigil on him.

Sansa gulped. "Pardon me, sir. I only came down for a quick breath of air. I think I shall return to my room now."

"Nonsense. You'll sit and have a drink with me."

"That's very kind, but no thank you." Sansa bowed her head and turned to go past him, but the man grabbed ahold of her wrist. Not violently but enough to keep her from leaving.

"Let go, please, or I'll call for help." Sansa gave him a defiant look. She had not come this far to be thwarted by a common derelict.

"Relax. I'm an old friend." The man pulled her close enough to where she could see the darkened creases around his eyes, and she was just about to scream when his face began to transform right before her eyes. "Remember me? Sister."

Suddenly, it was Arya's face she was looking into and Arya's voice that she was hearing. Sansa was shocked, her mouth agape, and she would have fallen backwards against the steps had the man not wrapped his arms around her tightly. "It's me, I swear it. I'm the only one who saw you that day behind the Godswood, crying to yourself over having to leave Winterfell for Kings Landing. Such a stupid girl, I thought. Afraid of having all her dreams come true. But maybe you knew something then about what was to come."

Sansa pulled away briefly from the embrace to catch another glimpse of her sister's face, but instead, it was the same wrinkled and weathered face she had seen at first, staring back at her. "But...how can this be? How...are you..."

"I can't explain it, and I'll probably have to pay penance for revealing myself, but I needed you to know that I'm alive."

"Oh, Arya. Is it really you?"

"Of course it is. Who else would know that you used to sleep in a crown made of tangled flowers or that you had to sacrifice your Lady for what Nymeria did to Joffrey."

Sansa looked deep into the man's eyes and was able to see her sister. She hugged her again. "Are you really alright? Where have you been? What does this mean?"

"Come and sit. I can't stay long as I have a job to complete tomorrow. Why are you here? Have you made it back to Winterfell? Has anyone else?"

Sansa figured that Arya knew about their mother and Robb, but she wasn't sure if she'd ever heard the rumors about Theon killing their brothers. So she let Arya know that Jon and Rickon were alive and probably Bran too, though she hadn't laid eyes on him in years. She watched as a sense of relief passed over her sister's face. "I'm getting Winterfell back for us. I just have to convince Petyr Baelish to join forces with Yara Greyjoy. And I've married Theon."

"Theon? Theon Greyjoy? Mother and Father must have turned over in their graves."

"And we have two children. Twins. A boy and a girl."

"Gods! I'm an auntie. I wish I could meet them."

"Stay until the morning."

"No, I can't. And you can't go to see Littlefinger."

"What? Why not?"

"Just trust me. Put off your visit for a few days."

"Arya. But why?"

"You can still convince our cousin Robin to side with you. He'll need some guidance before too long, but you must stay away from the Vale for now."

Arya started to get up and patted Sansa on the shoulder. "You didn't see me. But perhaps one day, I'll come home. I love you, sister. In case I didn't tell you before."

"Oh, Arya." Sansa watched sadly as the now unfamiliar figure made his way to the door. She couldn't really tell if she had imagined the whole thing. "I love you too."


	42. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I tried to tie it up neatly with a bow.

Sansa was watching the children from the bedroom window, although truth be told, they weren't children anymore. Thankfully, they had been shielded from many of the horrors she had experienced in her youth. No beheadings right before their eyes or beatings or humiliations or torture.

It was surreal to hear their laughter filling the courtyard of Winterfell. And having Jon's younger children staying with them for a few weeks made everything seem like it was many years before.

Klayton had grown close to Lanny and Ned. They often hunted together, exploring the grounds and making games out of their chores. Sansa never could convince Lanny to take up sewing, but she was quite skilled with archery.

Theon had yet to tell Klayton everything about his past. It still felt too soon to stir up those old, dark days. More than a few years had passed since Osha was killed in the siege on Kings Landing. She'd taken a sword for Rickon. Sansa had come to realize and appreciate how much Osha had cared for her brothers. Theon already knew she was a far better person than he could hope to be.

They had raised Klayton as their own and tried to show him as much love as they did the twins. From time to time, Sansa would think about her mother and what she must have felt all those years, living with the child of her husband's mistress. Catelyn never could bring herself to show Jon any hint of affection, since he was a constant reminder of her husband's betrayal. But the circumstances were very different with Klayton, so Sansa found room for him in her heart.

If only her mother was still alive and could have known the truth about Jon's heritage. Her father had risked his family and his reputation, bringing home his nephew and passing him as his bastard, per the request of his dying sister. It was Bran who had been able to reveal to Jon the truth about his origin, a secret that could have been buried forever.

Sansa moved away from the window and returned to her chair, picking up her needle and thread and the shirt she was darning. Her thoughts turned back to Bran.

_He had returned to Winterfell alive but a different person. The three eyed raven, he'd called himself. Upon his arrival, Bran had warned Jon of the white walkers moving furiously towards the wall. Jon immediately sent word to Rickon to bring forces to battle the walkers. But Yara couldn't spare any soldiers as she was still securing Kings Landing._

_Jon had also sent a raven to the Citadel, asking Sam to come back to the North with dragon glass. And he did - with enough dragon glass to equip the few thousand men who were around to fight the dead, including Jon and Theon._

_As masses of walkers scaled the wall and were descending in droves to claim the living for their massive undead army, Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons arrived and burned many of the walkers to the ground. It was Yara who had reached out to her and negotiated a deal._

_But the Night King was still in control from the ground and was relentless with his commands that the remaining walkers proceed over the wall and as far South as their feet could carry them._

_As Jon and the others were fighting them off, Bran had managed to pull Jon away and tell him of his true heritage. And then Bran said his goodbyes and warged into the Night King, calling the undead soldiers to retreat into the path of the dragon's flames. Sadly, Bran too perished in the flames._

_It was just a day later when the Mother of Dragons landed at Winterfell with her newly discovered nephew and his crew. After much negotiation, the two Targaryens agreed to rule together with Dany as queen and Jon as her hand. They secured fealty from the most southern region of Dorne to the Lands of Always Winter where a few tribes of free folk had returned. Per their agreement, Yara took authority over the seas. Everything beyond Westeros was still in play._

_Sansa knew that their children might be called to serve in the Westeros army one day. For now, she and Theon had been named wardens in the North, keeping the peace and settling any disputes between the eclectic mix of Ironborn, Free Folk, and Northerners._

_Rickon had taken up with a young woman and made his home in Riverrun, which would have made his mother proud. And Arya. Sansa was sure they'd meet again one day. Her sister had saved her the trouble of facing off with Baelish nearly a decade ago. She'd managed to maneuver her way inside the Vale and push him through the Moon Door, dashing his hopes of ever taking the Iron Throne. Ironically, he was born a nobody, eventually became a somebody, and was killed by "no one."_

Sansa paused with her sewing for a moment when she heard Theon sloshing around in the bathtub.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm fine." He called back to her.

"Let me know when you're finished."

There was supper to prepare for their soon-to-arrive guests, and Sansa smiled to herself, elated at the thought of seeing her friend Brienne. Their last reunion had been at Tarth, and now Brienne and Jaime would return to Winterfell for the first time in many years. Sansa imagined it would be strange for both of them, considering the memories they each carried. She was relieved that they had found some kind of happiness.

_It had been an inevitable parting of ways for Jaime and Brienne once Yara attacked Kings Landing. They each felt compelled to take up arms for a different side, only promising not to harm the other one should they come face to face. But it wouldn't come to that. Cersei had no remaining allies. Jaime was the one who discovered Cersei and Tommen and Margery, rotting away in the Red Keep after consuming Essence of Nightshade. He'd waited too long to try to save them and felt responsible for their deaths, even though Cersei had been the one who refused to surrender._

_Eventually, Brienne had convinced him to spend some time in sunny Tarth, where he gradually emerged from a deep depression and then more so once he was reunited with Tyrion. They agreed that Tyrion should have Casterly Rock, and later, Brienne bore Jaime a son - a child he could love and call his own without secrecy or shame._

"Sansa? Can you help me now?"

"Of course." Sansa tucked her sewing into her basket next to the chair and went inside the small room with the tub. Theon was seated in the water, resting his neck against the stone.

"Take ahold of my arm when you're ready."

He slowly gripped onto the sides of the tub and lifted himself onto his knees. Theon held onto Sansa as she helped him rise up and out of the tub. He sat on the edge while she dried off his legs.

"Shall I get your boot, or would you rather the crutches?"

"I think the crutches for now." Theon's expression had turned somber as he looked down below his knee at the place where his foot had once been. It was a wight that had taken a chunk of it during the battle near the wall.

"That was a long bath."

"I must have fallen asleep."

"Oh?"

"I had that dream again. You know, of Ser Rodrik and your brothers and the horror that passed over their faces when I declared Winterfell mine. Robb's face too - what I would imagine anyway. And then...well...what I did...to Ser Rodrik...and those boys..."

It seemed the more time passed, the more Theon was tormented by the impossible choices he'd faced and the poor decisions he'd made.

"I guess I've almost paid my debt though." He nodded towards his missing foot.

"Theon." Sansa paused, trying to find the right words to coax him away from his dark thoughts. "Everyone bears scars from this life. But there's redemption too. Listen. Listen to what we made possible."

The silence between them was soon filled with the near distant voices of the children from the courtyard. And their laughter. Soon they were calling out excitedly. "Mother! Father! Aunt Brienne's at the gates!"

The sorrowful wave that had consumed Theon momentarily was receding. "Perhaps better my boot. In case our friends want to spar a bit."

Sansa smiled and leaned over to kiss him gently on his cheek. He grabbed ahold of her hand and pressed his lips into the palm of her hand. "My lady. My life."

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna miss writing this story. Thanks for reading!


	43. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My ode to Thansa. Here's hoping they meet again in the final season!

You were a girl with hope in your heart.

And you were a boy living far away from home.

You were a girl who dreamed of marrying a king. But your betrothed was heartless and cruel.

And you were a boy with lust in your soul for all things that could never be yours. Not even your father's love.

You were a girl forced to see unspeakable things.

And you were a boy who did unspeakable things.

You were a girl who became a woman while trapped in a false paradise.

And you were a boy who became a man and then lost your way. A monster found you.

You were a woman who was sold to that monster. You endured unspeakable acts.

And you were a shadow with no will to fight because that monster had broken your spirit.

Until I found you.

Until you found me.

Until we jumped to freedom and ran into the cold, unforgiving winter.

But I forgive you.

I'm forgiven.

The girl and the boy...

became the woman and the man...

who despite all odds survived until...

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for sticking with me until the end! Happy to write another scene or two if you feel like something was missed.


End file.
